Resolution
by shvique
Summary: Sheldon frequently got on Jenny's nerves, and tried her patience. But as Jenny discovers, even a nerd has feelings. Has Jenny gone too far this time and broken Sheldon's heart?
1. Chapter 1--Fallen Idol

**Resolution**

A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic

By Shvique

_All Characters (except for the characters of Senator Wizner and Thurman Cutler) are created by Rob Renzetti and are property of Nickelodeon/Viacom, Inc. No copyright infringement is intended or to be inferred, nor is any profit implied from the following. This is merely a work of fan-fiction inspired by characters &amp; situations referred to above, for purely entertainment purposes only, by a fan with too much imagination &amp; too much free time…_

_Author's note: This story is based upon characters from the series "My Life as a Teenage Robot," created by Rob Renzetti, property of Nickelodeon/Viacom, Inc. Unlike the original series, there's not a whole lot of action in this story, and there sure as hell aren't a lot of laughs; but what can be found herein are the kind of intense, emotionally-charged interactions that tend to be my forte when it comes to fiction-writing. The inspiration for this story came from the ending of the episode "Agent 00-Sheldon," which I found very disturbing, for various reasons (which will become clear as you read the story), plus the fact that the implications and aftermath of that episode were never adequately resolved before the series was cancelled. The following story therefore is my way of "resolving" it or "fixing things," at least in my own mind. It is not "set in stone," so far as strictly following series canon is concerned; rather, think of it as a kind of "Alternate Universe" type of scenario, what I think could have happened, might have happened (and arguably should have happened) between these characters afterwards. This story was also inspired in part by the short story "Death of a Friendship" (recommended, btw), by teamchaotixheroes, which may also be found here. _

_As indicated, the emphasis in this story is not on humor. My belief is that, since I could never do comedy even half as well as the original creators could, there's no point in my trying. Instead, I felt that a better approach would be for me to play to my strengths and instead focus on the 'shadows' beneath the 'light' that normally pervades the original series. So with that preparation and that thought in mind, please read on and…enjoy(? If that's the right word…) Fasten your seat-belts folks; it's gonna be a bumpy ride… Comments/feedback welcome, so long as you keep 'em clean and reasonably constructive. (Cuss-words, insults or personally abusive comments get a quick bye-bye straight to the delete-bin…)_

_The time: Immediately after the events at the conclusion of "Agent 00-Sheldon"_

**Chapter 1—Fallen Idol**

Sheldon Oswald Lee stood alone in his bathroom, as naked as the day he was born, trying to examine his bottom in the bathroom mirror. It was an awkward position to be in, as he twisted around, trying to examine the sore skin in that region.

His bottom was clearly sore &amp; reddened, but so far as he could tell, the skin hadn't been broken. As painful as it was, it appeared to be no more serious than a bad sunburn (which he was used to, being as fair-complected as he was.)

He reached into the medicine-cabinet for the nearly-empty can of _Solarcaine_ and sprayed the last of the medication onto his sore buttocks. He sighed in relief as the spray cooled the burning pain.

When he was satisfied that the last of the medicine was applied &amp; the stinging abated, he took a deep breath…and let it out slowly.

_Well…_ he thought bitterly. _This is the end…definitely the end…_

It was not, however, the can of painkilling medication spray he was thinking about.

He was thinking of something else, something much more important to him personally, that—he now realized—had come to an end.

* * *

Global Response Unit XJ-9—also known as "Jenny" to her friends—was the teenage robot protector of Earth, based in the small town of Tremorton, USA. She rocketed through the skies now, speeding her way homeward after a _very_ trying day in particular.

Her life was nothing if not eventful. On practically a daily basis, she had to deal with everything from armies of hostile alien invasions from outer space, to giant monsters rampaging the town. It never ceased to amaze her how an otherwise small, quiet, sleepy-looking little town always managed to attract so many crises on so regular a basis…

But she had no time to ponder such matters today. On this day, she was angry. No, not merely angry. She was _furious__!_

_How could he?!_ She thought, silently fuming._ How __could__ he?! All this time…! All this time, he's been lying to me…deceiving me…keeping secrets from me and spying on me! And he claims to be a __friend__! __Some friend__!_

So involved was she in her own private, furious thoughts, that she almost overflew her own home. She stopped short in her flight-path, then bent her head down, diving straight for her house, pulling up just at the last second before hitting the front step, to land lightly upon her feet. She held out a finger to the key-slot of the front door, her finger unfolding to reveal a built-in house-key inside. She inserted the key into the lock, opened the door and stepped inside, slamming the door loudly behind her.

"Did you get there in time to—" Jenny's creator, Dr. Wakeman inquired.

"Yes!" Jenny shouted.

"What's wrong?" Dr. Wakeman asked "What happened? Did something go wrong?"

"No! Nothing happened!" Jenny snapped.

"Well, _something_ happened! Now tell me what—"

"_I don't want to talk about it!"_ Jenny exclaimed, as she stormed up the stairs to her bedroom.

"XJ-9—" Dr. Wakeman pressed, elongating the "nine", as she always did.

"MOTHER! I _said, I don't want to talk about it!"_ Jenny fumed, slamming her bedroom door completely off its hinges…and taking out a good part of the wall in the process.

Dr. Wakeman merely sighed to herself._ Teenagers!_ She thought. _Why ever did I have to build a __teenaged__ robot?!_

Jenny's 'sisters'—the remaining units of the XJ series, 1 through 8 arrived home a short while later, and when they arrived, they filled Dr. Wakeman in on the details of what had taken place at the secret Government agency compound. Her face turned as white as her hair, and her mouth dropped open in shock as they told their story.

When at last they had finished, Dr. Wakeman turned and headed up the stairs to Jenny's bedroom.

_I need to have a talk with that young lady!_ She thought as she climbed.

* * *

After giving the sprayed-on Solarcaine sufficient time to dry, Sheldon began to dress himself, first pulling on his underwear, then slipping into his comfortable everyday wear: jeans, T-shirt and maroon hoodie. Trying his best to look at the bright side, he consoled himself with the fact that, at least now he could go back to wearing his old comfortable clothes &amp; didn't have to wear that creepy black suit and tie anymore… But it was a futile effort, he knew; there _was_ no 'bright side' this time. Not now. Not anymore.

And not ever. He knew that now, too.

As he sat on the bed, lacing his sneakers, he thought very carefully, and he knew what he had to do. It would be difficult, it would even be painful. But he had to do it. He knew that, before he could go forward, he had to let go of the past. He had no choice. The ties were cut, and there would be no mending them this time, no going back.

His shoes now firmly laced, he walked over to his closet, opened it, and looked sadly at the little shrine he'd dedicated to the 'Love of his Life,' Jenny Wakeman. Pictures, photos, newspaper-clippings, even a small plastic 'action-figure' in her likeness (now reprogrammed by himself, to make it safe &amp; no longer able to be remote-controlled for malicious purposes by the likes of Krakus.)

He took one final look at the contents of the little shrine for just a moment longer…then very carefully began to remove the items, one by one. Every picture, photo, newspaper clipping about Jenny were all taken down, one by one, and carefully, deliberately torn into pieces, thereafter dropped into the trashcan. Tears filled Sheldon's eyes as he went about his sorrowful task. He told himself he wouldn't cry, but he couldn't help himself. With each item removed and destroyed, Sheldon silently repeated to himself, like a mantra: _It's over… It's over… This time, it's really over…_ Occasionally, he'd pause and regard a photo or news-clipping a moment or two longer, a particularly poignant token of his devotion to his object of desire, recalling the occasion when he'd added it to his collection, a brief recollection of a happier time. The memory would last only a moment…before he proceeded to tear up and dispose of the item in the trashcan along with the rest.

The last item to be removed was the little plastic "Action Jenny" figure, from its top shelf of the shrine (a place of honor, he once thought.) His hands trembled as he carefully removed the figure and held it tenderly. As he held it, looking at it now, he recalled how happy he was to be among the first in line to buy the figure when it first arrived on the market, the joy he felt at being among the lucky first few to get Jenny's autographed photo, when she'd made a personal appearance at the store that day. Though she didn't have time to talk to him for very long (but then she never did), he still remembered the thrill and delight he felt, just to have her picture, her autograph, and to just be near her for even a few seconds. He looked at the pretty, painted-on smiling face of the figure, looking so sweet and adorable, just as Jenny herself seemed to be to him at one time, back in the beginning, when he'd first laid eyes on her…

…Before he had come to know her true nature, what she was _really_ like underneath. Before he had come to realize that the deceptive-looking sweetness on the surface was all just a lie, a cruel joke meant to deceive.

The little action-figure, like all the photos and other memorabilia in his collection devoted to Jenny, now served only as a harsh reminder to him of just how foolish he'd been, and how woefully he'd allowed himself to be deceived by appearances.

He held the figure in his hands for only a moment longer, before dropping it into the trash with the rest of the discarded items.

With the last item now removed and disposed of, he closed the closet door, walked over to his desk and booted up his computer. Once the computer was up and running, Sheldon began going through the files on the hard-drive, as well as all the thumb drives and zip-drives that he'd retrieved from storage. Going through the various folders carefully, Sheldon began systematically deleting the files for all the plans, diagrams and design-specifications for the various gadgets, gizmos, inventions and attachments that he had in the planning stages for weeks now, all intended as gifts to present to Jenny someday. Gifts that, he now realized, would never be accepted or appreciated by her, just as she never appreciated anything he had done for her. With a heavy heart, he selected each file, one by one, and entered the command to "permanently delete." It was a painful task; all the work that he'd done on them purely out of love, now all going to waste.

When the last file was deleted from the hard-drive and backups, Sheldon powered down his computer, slowly walked over to his bed, sat down…

And had a good, long cry.

It had to be done, he reminded himself. As painful, as heartbreaking as it was, he simply had to delete the files. They no longer had any purpose, so there was no point in keeping them. Like the little "Jenny shrine," they were only painful reminders of what he now realized could never be…

Because he now knew, without question…

That Jenny Wakeman, the robot-girl Love of his Life whom he adored…

_Hated_ him.

* * *

Jenny lay on her bed, her hands folded behind her head, staring at the ceiling as though she intended to burn holes in it with her lasers.

A timid knock sounded at the bedroom door. "XJ-9?" Dr. Wakeman's voice spoke from the other side. Her voice was soft, but firm. And serious. "XJ-9? May I come in…? I would like to have a word with you, young lady!"

Jenny remained silent.

Dr. Wakeman opened the door slowly, cautiously, and peered inside. She saw her robotic daughter, sprawled on the bed, her pretty face now hardened into a fierce scowl. For a brief moment, Dr. Wakeman marveled at her own ingenuity, in designing a robot-face capable of a full range of human expression. Then she recalled why she was there.

"XJ-9?" she repeated.

"Mother, please!" Jenny replied with quiet intensity. "I just want to be left alone. I don't want to talk about it!"

Ordinarily, Jenny appreciated her creator's concerns about her, but there were other times when she simply wished to be left alone. This was one of those times.

"Now you listen to me, young lady!" Dr. Wakeman began, her patience beginning to run out. "I have some questions I want to ask you about just what happened today, and I expect some answers! Is that clear?"

Jenny turned her face away from her creator, and stared at the wall.

"Now I know _something_ happened out there! I've heard parts of it from your sisters—"

"Then I suppose they told you _everything,_ is that it? Who told you? Was it XJ-6? It _was,_ wasn't it! That tattletale!"

"It wasn't XJ-6—"

"Then _who?! Who's_ the blabbermouth? XJ-5?"

"Nobody did any 'tattling,' as you put it. They didn't have to. Now, I don't know exactly what happened or what exactly you did out there, but the fact is that right now, _your sisters are all scared to death of you!"_

Jenny was stunned into silence by the words. She turned to face her mom directly. "They're _what?"_ she asked, incredulously._ "Scared?!_ Of _me?!"_ She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"From what little I got out of them, they all thought you blew a fuse or something! They thought you'd gone nuts! They'd never _seen_ you get so angry! _Never!_ Right now, they're afraid to even come near you!"

Jenny continued to stare at her creator. She _still_ couldn't believe it. "Even…" she began. "Even…XJ-8…?" Jenny couldn't imagine XJ-8 being afraid of anyone or anything.

"Even XJ-8," Dr. Wakeman replied. She paused a moment. "Now, I know _something_ happened out at that compound today, and you're obviously upset about it." She paused again, waiting for her daughter to respond. "I've heard XJs 1 through 8 tell their version of it… Now I would like to hear your side of it…" She waited, again hoping for a response of some kind from her daughter; but Jenny merely turned away and stared at the ceiling again, the scowl returning to her face.

"Is this about Sheldon?" Dr. Wakeman asked quietly. "Did he do something to you? Did you get angry at him?" She paused; then, "Or did you do something to—"

"_MOTHER!"_ Jenny barked, cutting her off. "I _said, I don't want to talk about it!"_ With that, she turned away to face the wall.

Dr. Wakeman sighed. She knew from experience that it was useless trying to talk to XJ-9 when she was in this mood; but she also knew that Sheldon was somehow involved, so she had a pretty good guess as to the reason for her daughter's mood. She decided it might be better to simply give her robotic daughter time to cool her circuits, calm down and talk about the events that had taken place that day at a later time, when she was ready.

With that, she turned and walked to the door. "Well," she said softly. "All right. I'll leave you alone for now. But this isn't over, young lady! We _are_ going to have this out! When you're ready to discuss this like a grown-up, _then_ we'll talk about it, and I expect some answers. Do I make myself clear?"

Grudgingly, Jenny replied, "Yes, Mother…!"

With that, Dr. Wakeman left, carefully closing the shattered remnants of the bedroom door behind her.

_She just doesn't understand how I feel!_ Jenny thought. _There's no way she could ever understand! How could she? Has she ever been betrayed by anyone? By a so-called 'friend'? Someone I was stupid enough to think I could trust? She just doesn't understand…!_

* * *

After a while, Sheldon's sobs began to subside, and he wiped tears away from his reddened, swollen eyes, as he pondered what it all meant, and the uncomfortable conclusions he was now forced to face.

It wasn't just the heartache he felt, of being rejected—once again—by Jenny. He was used to that; he'd been dealing with it right from the beginning, from when he'd first met her. So that was nothing new.

And it wasn't simply the fact that Jenny didn't like him, either; he was used to that by now, too. He knew Jenny didn't like him, he knew she certainly had no interest in dating him—she'd made _that_ very clear a long time ago! Still, in the back of his mind, he'd always nursed a hope—a very small, very persistent, very stubborn hope—that, if she were at least willing to be friends with him, then maybe someday…_someday…_he'd be able to win Jenny over, to prove himself to her, prove that he was worthy of her, and win her heart.

He'd continued in his belief and his hope for the longest time. In the face of all obstacles, all the setbacks, and all the endless rejections and humiliations, he still nursed his private hope of one day winning the love of his heart's desire. He'd made a fool of himself, time and time again, in his pursuit of Jenny, making himself the laughingstock of Tremorton High.

Sure, they all thought he was 'strange' or 'weird' for being so strongly attracted to Jenny, the Robot Girl, but who cared what they thought? Naturally, they _would_ think he was strange, just as they all believed he was only interested in her as a piece of technology. That just showed how little _they_ knew. How could they possibly understand? They, who thought of Jenny as a "freak;" how could they possibly understand that, what they saw as a "freak," _he_ saw as someone indescribably _beautiful? _How could they possibly know that the love he felt for Jenny transcended her physical form and appearance? True, her robotic nature—along with the fact that she'd defended him against bullies—was the first thing that made him take notice of her.

But over time, that sentiment gradually evolved into something else, something quite different, a sentiment much higher and more refined in nature. Over time, it was the girl inside the steel and circuitry that became the source of fascination to him; the girl beneath the steel exterior that he came to love and admire and care about. How could the other kids at school possibly know or understand of such things? And so yes, naturally they would laugh at him; just like they laughed at and mocked everything and everyone they didn't understand.

And it wasn't even anything like a sexual thing either, despite all the crude, tasteless jokes that he'd also endured from the other students. No, it was something much higher, more elevated; a more deeply-held, spiritual kind of love, a deep, deep affection and the absolute highest regard that Sheldon believed he could ever feel for any girl. Jenny had, at that point in time, seemed to him to represent all of his highest ideals in a girl, and at such a highly refined level, that the idea of anything sexual never even entered into the equation. She was strong, beautiful, appealing, and—at least in the beginning—she was kind, as in the way she had defended him against the bullies in shop-class.

_How could those fools at school ever even comprehend such things, let alone understand them?_ He thought.

_So let them laugh,_ he thought. _Let them laugh their fool heads off. They're only displaying their own ignorance._ And up until now, Sheldon didn't care, either. Up until now, the laughter and mockery of the other students didn't bother him in the slightest. All that mattered was the hope, the tiniest chance, that he could one day prove his worth to Jenny and win her love. That hope—however small it may be—was enough for him, enough to endure all the laughter and all the mockery.

But now that hope was gone. Forever. He knew that now. He knew that all his efforts had been in vain. He had tried _everything_ to win Jenny's love…but it made no difference. It was hopeless…

Because he now knew something that he didn't before: Jenny didn't merely dislike him. She wasn't merely disinterested in him or even indifferent. No…Jenny _hated_ him. Really, truly _hated_ him.

It was the only explanation; the only one that made sense. After all, how else could he explain it? How else could he explain the outrageous, inexcusable cruelty of her betrayal of him? How could she _do_ such a terrible thing to him? After all the things he'd done for her, all the kindness and concern he'd shown her the entire time they'd known one another, and now even after he'd fought in her defense at the agency-compound; after all that, for her to now turn against him and _attack_ him the way she had! It was _outrageous!_

And it was bad enough that she'd turned against him; what made it worse—so much worse and so unspeakably cruel—was that she'd used her powers against him! That was the part that Sheldon found most unforgivable of all. He was completely and utterly defenseless against her, and yet she'd attacked him without mercy! _How could she do such a thing? _He wondered.

It was so obvious now, Sheldon wondered why he hadn't seen it earlier. He should have seen it from the beginning, but he didn't. Or rather, he wouldn't allow himself to see it. Now, he had no choice; the truth was so obvious that he could no longer blind himself to it. _Ohhhhhhhhh!_ He thought in abject self-pity and disgust with himself. _I feel like such a __fool__! Such an __idiot__!_

And as he thought about it now, he recalled all the various ways that Jenny had been cruel to him in the past, which should have alerted him to her true feelings for him. The time when he'd stolen her blueprints, for example, and Jenny had used her superior strength and powers to _pulverize_ him for it. She didn't have to do that. True, she had good reason to be angry at him for what he'd done, there was no denying that. Still, there was no excuse for her to be so deliberately cruel to him, either. After all, he knew that what he did was wrong, he admitted it and immediately apologized for it. So why did she have to be so vindictive about it? _And to do it with such relish!_ He recalled with a shudder of horror.

Or there was that other time, when she'd abandoned him in outer space for 80 years, then, when he'd finally returned to Earth as an old man, she reversed him in age to that of a baby, and then abandoned him _again,_ this time turning him over to those space-pirates! Without even so much as a thought or a care! _How could she __do__ such a thing?_ He wondered again._ Has she no feelings at all?_

That one incident alone, he now realized, should have tipped him off as to her true nature. After all, how else could she do something so heartless unless she really truly _hated_ him?

He was so angry at her at the time for what she'd done that he swore he'd never forgive her. And at the time, he meant it, from the very bottom of his heart. And he told her so! Yet how had she reacted? After he had told her how hurt and angry he was, how did she react? She didn't care_._ She didn't show the slightest sign of remorse or regret. Instead, she simply smiled and thought he was _joking. Joking!_ She'd ruined his life, cared so little about it, then acted as though it was all a big _joke!_

_Heartless!_ He thought. _Absolutely __heartless__!_

Yet as angry as Sheldon was on that occasion, as ardently as he swore he could never forgive Jenny for what she'd done, in time he discovered that he was eventually willing and able to forgive her after all, and give her one more chance. He was a fool to do so, he now realized, but he forgave her just the same.

But not now. Not this time. Never again. This was the last straw. After this, there could be no forgiveness, no second chances. Not now. Not ever. This act of outrageous, unspeakably cruel betrayal was completely beyond the pale, as far as he was concerned; totally unforgivable.

So now there could be no doubt: Jenny hated him, of that he was now sure. But what he still found utterly baffling about it all was _why?! Why_ did she hate him so? What had he ever done to her to make her _hate_ him so much? Sure, he'd made stupid mistakes and had done stupid stuff; but he never did anything out of malice, spite or mean-spiritedness or ill intent of any kind. He was motivated purely by love, that's all. It was a misguided love, he now realized, but it was still love, just the same. Yet Jenny often treated him far more cruelly than she did her worst enemies. Even the hated Crust Cousins seldom—if ever—warranted such treatment from Jenny. Yet she frequently inflicted such treatment upon him almost as a matter of course.

So in hindsight, Sheldon realized that he should have realized a long time ago that Jenny hated him. There were so many indications, so many clues that should have awakened him to that fact, which he simply chose to ignore.

And yet, the most painful clue of all, the one that should have made him realize how little Jenny truly thought of him, was also the smallest, and most subtle; an incident that didn't even involve anything physical, yet it hurt him almost more deeply than if it had_._ To the casual observer, it might've seemed a minor incident. And yet, it hurt him so deeply at the time that, in many ways, he never really got over it.

It had happened when he and Dr. Wakeman had hot-wired Queen Vexus' spaceship to go to Cluster Prime to rescue Jenny from what they believed to be certain doom. They had worked so hard together, and had both risked their lives to go through a multi-lateral Cluster vortex to get there, facing terrible dangers along the way, never knowing for sure just what awaited them on the other side.

And then…when they finally arrived on Cluster Prime, and Sheldon had fallen to his knees and begged—_begged!—_Jenny to return to earth with them…

She barely even acknowledged him. She didn't even smile. She obviously wasn't happy to see him. She never even spoke a word to him. She merely stared at him, bewildered, as though he were some strange sort of crawling insect that appeared out of the ground near her feet.

Oh, Jenny was happy to see her mom, of course, and she was happy to see her friends Brad &amp; Tuck, when they arrived moments later, from who-knew-where. She greeted all three with a big, friendly hug. Hugs all around, for everyone. Everyone was happy…

Everyone, that is, except Sheldon.

Sheldon was excluded. Sheldon was left out. Sheldon, as usual, was ignored.

He noticed it at the time of course, but said little about it. And deep down inside, it _hurt._

And it was the same situation days later, after the threat from the Cluster had passed, and Jenny was presented with the special honorary "Jenn-Tennial" medal for her heroism. Upon receiving the medal, Jenny rejoiced with new hugs all around for her mom, and for Brad and Tuck. But not for Sheldon. Once again, he was excluded; _deliberately_ excluded, it seemed to him. Left out and forgotten.

For days afterward, Sheldon rarely spoke a word to anyone. Everyone, of course, was so happy that the crisis had passed, and so proud of Jenny for all that she'd done to end the crisis, that no one ever noticed Sheldon's silence. Even though he had acted heroically himself during the crisis, in his efforts to help rescue Jenny, no one had ever even acknowledged his efforts. No one had ever bothered to say so much as a 'thank you.'

The incident on Cluster Prime and its aftermath was the first inkling Sheldon had of just how futile, how hopeless it all was, that all his efforts to win Jenny over had been utterly and completely wasted. Her opinion of him hadn't changed in the slightest from the time they'd first met. She still thought of him as nothing more than a geek and a loser, a pest and a nuisance to be ignored and avoided, just like she always had. Just like everyone else.

The incident should have told him something even then, he now realized. It should have prepared him for the inevitable which was to come. But it didn't. Maybe he could have seen it for what it was, but he didn't allow himself to see; he had been willfully blind all along. And he now felt like an utter, complete _fool_ as a result.

_Well…it doesn't matter now…_he told himself. _It's over now…it's all over…_ Never again would he follow Jenny around, either in or outside of school, chase around after her, try to win her affections or even seek out her friendship any longer. Never again would he waste time and energy presenting her with gifts, or doing favors for her. Never again would he make a _fool_ of himself over her. That, he now knew, was pointless; time and effort utterly wasted... Moreover, as he thought about it more and more, he decided that she simply wasn't worth it…

_But it __could__ have been so good, so beautiful and so wonderful!_ he thought. He could have been the very best friend that Jenny could ever want; if only she had given him a chance. He would have done anything for her, anything at all to make her happy. But all he had to offer, she wouldn't even take. He tried so hard, in every way he could think of, in his own clumsy way, to win her over. He tried _everything…_ But it didn't matter. It changed nothing.

If only she'd met him even half-way, he believed he could—and would—have proven himself to her in time, of that he was sure. But she never even gave him that chance. And his countless acts of kindness were rewarded only with indifference. Or, as now, with outright cruelty.

_It could have been so good…_he thought. But now…it was too late. It didn't matter anymore. Now…he no longer cared…

So from now on, he vowed, he would respect her wishes and stay far, far away from her, forever; never approaching her, never looking at her, never even speaking to her if he could avoid it. Never again would he give her a reason to call him a 'creepy stalker,' the very words he'd heard her use to describe him. He wouldn't come within a million miles of her if he could avoid her. And he certainly would never give her the opportunity to hurt him again. Never again. No more… It was over…

It was a painful vow for Sheldon to make, but he knew it was the only choice he had, the only thing he had left that he could do for her: _to grant her wish to be left alone…which was all she ever wanted from him from the start._

He shuddered at the final thought, and clutched his pillow tightly, fresh tears flowing from his eyes. He continued to weep into the night until at last, he fell sound asleep where he lay, and never heard the phone ringing downstairs.

* * *

End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2--Shattered Illusions

**Resolution**

By Shvique

**Chapter 2—Shattered Illusions**

The alarm-clock on Jenny's nightstand rang for only the briefest of moments, before her steel fist slammed down upon it, flattening it like an aluminum can. Not that it did her any good, of course, for she knew she had to get up anyway. Groggily, grumpily, she swung her legs out from under the blankets and onto the floor. Most days, Jenny awakened in the morning full of enthusiasm and good cheer. This, however, was not one of those mornings.

She'd slept _terribly_ the night before. Unlike most nights, in which she simply activated her sleep mode and dropped right off, enjoying pleasant dreams from the dream-chip she's asked her mom to create for her, the previous night was one of fitful, restless sleep, full of strange, disturbing dreams. Though her energy-cells were now fully recharged, she felt as though they were depleted down to only 10% levels.

Not only did her energy-level feel low, but so were her spirits. She was still in a foul mood from the previous day, and her restless sleep did nothing to improve it. Grumpily, she made her way into the bathroom, where she went through her usual early-morning routine of normal robot hygiene.

When she came downstairs a few minutes later, she was surprised to find that her creator, Dr. Wakeman, wasn't at the breakfast-table, were she could normally be found at this time of the morning. Instead, she was in her study, speaking on the phone with someone. Jenny couldn't quite hear what was said—and she knew better than to eavesdrop—yet her acutely-sensitive hearing was able to detect a few words of her mom's side of the conversation.

"Okay. Well, would you ask the Senator please give Dr. Noreen Wakeman of Tremorton a call? That's Noreen Wakeman. That's right. She has my number, but I'll give it to you anyway. 555-3172. Right. Thank you. Good bye."

She hung up the phone, and Jenny hurriedly scurried away from the doorway and into the kitchen, seating herself at the table.

"Sorry I was on the phone, XJ-9," Dr. Wakeman said as she approached the table. "But it was important. I've been trying to reach Senator Wizner's office, to tell her about this matter with that secret agency. I want to talk to her and ask if she thinks it's something she might be able to ask her investigative committee to look into."

Jenny stared at her creator. "And…?" she said.

"Well, if they do, and depending on what they find, I'm hoping they might be able to shut down that agency, pending a full Congressional investigation of this incident. If so, it'll get that agency off our backs, at least for a while, anyway."

"Well, that'd be a relief," Jenny replied, as she fetched a can of oil from a kitchen-cupboard. She sat down at the kitchen table with it, opening it with a can-opener built into her left pinkie. "I hope they can do it."

"Well, I have confidence in Alison. Once I tell her the whole story and explain things to her, I'm sure she'll go the extra mile for us and try to get to the bottom of this mess. She and I go _way_ back. After all, she was instrumental in helping me to get the initial funding for the XJ program years ago."

"Really! I didn't know that." Jenny replied. She never ceased to be impressed with her mom's extensive connections, both within and outside the scientific community.

Dr. Wakeman nodded. "So you see, she's definitely a good friend for us to have in Washington."

She carried over a bowl of shredded wheat to the table, set it down at her place and sat down. "Also, I'm going to try and get ahold of Thurman Cutler later on and see if maybe he might be able to help us."

"Who?" Jenny asked. "Who's Thurman Cutler?"

"Oh, he's an old friend of mine; a lawyer who specializes in protecting the legal and civil rights of robots."

Jenny raised her eyebrows. "Civil rights of Robots…" she nodded, approvingly. "Well, I'm glad to hear somebody's looking out for us, at least. I never thought about it much, but I guess I always just assumed that most people consider us…" she faltered, then dropped her voice. "You know…_property..."_ The utterance of the word clearly pained her.

"Yes, many people do think that. But of course, you're not; not really. But technically, it is kind of a legal grey area. You see, although sentient robots such as yourself are no longer considered simply 'property' per se, you're not quite fully recognized as human, either. At least, not in the legal sense." She paused, taking a mouthful of shredded wheat. "You see, over the last 20 years or so, there've been great strides in getting sentient robots such as yourself to be legally recognized as persons. Although the law doesn't fully recognize you as 'human' per se, there are certain allowances made in some cases—yours, for example, and a few others—that recognize certain basic civil rights. Not exactly _human_ rights per se, but the next best thing."

Jenny regarded her mom grimly. "Separate but equal, right?"

"Well, something like that."

Jenny looked away. "I don't think I much like the sound of that." She grumbled.

She didn't see the pained look on her mom's face. "I know, dear." Dr. Wakeman went on. "I don't like it either. But that may always change…someday. It's something to hope for. And, in the meantime, it's at least better than what we used to have before. You see, you don't remember what it was like before you were made, but…" she faltered, then decided to drop the subject for the time being. "Well…it's a long story… Anyway, the important thing to remember is that now you—and all sentient robots—have certain basic rights, one of which is, you can't just be grabbed off the street without proper legal authority and procedure, the way that agency did. They have to first get a warrant or court-order or something like that, just as with humans." She took another spoonful of her breakfast, then concluded. "So you do have civil rights, just as humans do. And fortunately, we have people such as Senator Wizner and Thurman Cutler to see to it that those rights are protected."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," Jenny replied, taking a long swallow of oil.

"While we're on the subject," Dr. Wakeman went on. "I'd still like you tell me your version of what happened at that agency compound yesterday."

Jenny cringed. She'd hoped her mom would forget about that, but she didn't. Her mom never forgot _anything._ At least, nothing that involved Jenny…

"Well…?" Dr. Wakeman drawled, regarding her daughter with her most chilling gaze.

Jenny avoided her creator's eyes, looking all around the room, her arms folded.

"I'm waiting…"

Jenny sighed resignedly. "Well…there's really not that much to tell. Sheldon took me to the compound where my sisters and the other robots were held captive, and—and we freed them all, and…that was it."

Dr. Wakeman looked at her daughter. It was obvious she was holding something back. "And…?" she drawled.

"And—and nothing. That was that. That's all there was to it."

"What's this about you getting so angry? When you came home yesterday, you were _furious!_ And I want to know why! Now, what _exactly_ happened over there?"

Jenny sighed in exasperation. "Well…it's just that… I mean…" She looked at her mom, trying to find the right words to describe the feeling of betrayal she felt. "Well, haven't you wondered how and why Sheldon—of all people!—could've known about that agency and where they were holding the robots captive? Well, the answer is, _he was one of them!"_

Dr. Wakeman's mouth dropped open. _"What?!"_ she gasped. "I don't believe it!"

"Well, it's _true!_ It turns out he's been with them for quite some time now. You see…"

And Jenny proceeded to tell her creator the whole story of what happened at the compound in detail, but leaving out the part of how she'd reacted when Sheldon explained his role in the saga.

* * *

By the time Jenny arrived at Tremorton High a half hour later, she was already dreading an encounter with Sheldon. She was still in no mood to have to face him, talk to him or otherwise deal with him in any way on any level. Gloomily, she slinked down the hallways through the bustling crowd of students to her locker, cringing as she expected Sheldon to suddenly pop out of nowhere and immediately be all over her, the way he always did.

However, she was relieved to find no sign of him anywhere. She thought she caught a brief glimpse of him down at the opposite end of the hall, just as she opened her locker; but by the time she closed her locker and looked again, the figure at the end of the hall was gone.

She merely shrugged, thought no more about it and continued on her way to her first morning class.

* * *

"Well, I don't know how long they've been operating," Dr. Wakeman said, as she sat at the desk in her study, speaking into the phone. She paused, taking an occasional sip of tea, listening. "I don't know how long they've been operating in Tremorton, either. My guess is, they've been here for awhile, maybe a couple of months at least, from what little I've been able to piece together from talking to my daughter and checking some other sources. There's a boy, a friend of my daughter's, I know he's somehow involved, but I haven't been able to reach him yet to hear his version of it. No…no, I've tried calling him several times, but so far, he's not answering the phone."

She leaned back in her chair, pencil in hand, making occasional notes on a small pad of paper, listening intently.

"Yes…yes, I'm aware of that," she replied. "I know; of course I know all about that. That's why I thought I'd better contact you. I thought it's something you really ought to at least be aware of, since you're on that committee anyway." She paused, listening, taking a sip from her tea. "Right. Exactly. That's what I thought, too. From what little I've been able to gather, I don't see how it could've been legal, what they were doing; at least, the way they were operating. I mean, I'm no lawyer, but I'd be very interested in finding out just what kind of warrants or court-orders they obtained, or even if they had any legal authority at all." She paused again. "No. No, I haven't spoken to him yet. I was going to call him next, as a matter of fact. But I thought you should know first. But you're right; I agree. Anything involving Robot Civil Rights, he's definitely the one to call, and it sounds like the robots' rights were clearly violated here. Okay… Okay, thanks Alison; thanks a million. Good bye." With a deep sigh of relief and a growing smile on her face, Dr. Wakeman hung up the phone.

_Thank goodness!_ She thought. _Alison's going to look into this mess! I'm sure she'll get to the bottom of it!_

Dr. Wakeman finished off the last of her tea, then picked up the phone and began dialing again. After a while, she spoke. "Hello? Is this Thurman Cutler's office? Yes; this is Dr. Noreen Wakeman speaking. Is Mr. Cutler available?" she paused. "Yes. I'll wait; this is _very_ important."

* * *

Brad passed through the bus line of the cafeteria with his tray, watching with growing disappointment as the menu's Meal of the Day was doled out by the cafeteria workers.

"Ugh!" he said, making a disgusted face, turning to his pal Norbert, behind him in line. "What is that gunk? Chicken?"

Norbert smiled. "Something like that, I think. Or maybe it's supposed to be fish. Sewer Trout, maybe?" He laughed. "Tastes the same anyway!"

"Yeah, rotten!" Brad laughed.

Brad and Norbert enjoyed their private joke over the school's menu, while deriving even greater enjoyment from the sour looks of the cafeteria-employees over their commentary—before heading their separate ways to sit at their usual tables in the seating area.

Brad spotted his friend Jenny already seated at their usual table, and he quickly walked over to join her. As he approached however, he immediately noticed that she wasn't her usual bright, cheerful, bubbly self; today, he saw, she seemed in a decidedly sour mood.

"Hey, Jen, what's up?" Brad called amiably, as he sat down beside her, setting his tray on the table.

"Hey, Brad," she replied, not looking up, as she gloomily sipped at the straw of her can of Cog-Aid.

"Rough day, huh?" he said. "What's the matter? Crust Cousins giving you grief again?" He snorted derisively. "Psh…just ignore them. They're a pain, but they don't really matter. Just pay no attention to them."

"It's not them," Jenny replied, staring at the table top, her cheek resting against her palm.

"Is Razinski getting on your case for wrecking the school again? Ahhh," Brad waved a hand dismissively. "Don't let him get to you. And the next time he gives you static, just tell him you're only doing your job, just like his job is—" he paused. "Come to think of it, just what exactly_ is_ Razinski's job anyway? I mean, what exactly does he do, other than annoy us, that is?"

"Beats me," Jenny said, barely listening. "Anyway, it's not him either."

"Oh."

Jenny remained silent, and Brad tried again. "Something _is_ bothering you though…right?"

Jenny sighed. "I'd rather not talk about it." She said, quietly.

"Oh…okay…" Brad said, pleasantly. He knew by now that, whatever was troubling Jenny, she would talk about it—whatever it was—when she was good and ready, but not before. "But…anytime you change your mind," he went on. "And wanna talk, you know, I'm always ready to listen." He smiled.

Jenny turned and looked at him. Brad _was_ a good friend, she remembered; the two had always been able to share their worries, cares &amp; troubles with one another. If she couldn't share it with him, she thought, then who _could_ she share it with?

"Well…it's kind of a long story…" she began. "And…I _know_ you're not gonna believe parts of it! But, so help me Jobs, it's all true!"

Now Jenny had Brad's full attention. "Go on," he said. "I'm listening."

"Well…you see, a few weeks ago, I started hearing some scuttlebutt among the robot-community. Nothing concrete at first; just rumors here and there about robots suddenly going missing…"

And for the remainder of the lunch-hour, Jenny told Brad the whole story. All about the robots getting arrested and confiscated from all over Tremorton by the rogue top-secret government agency; about Sheldon's inexplicable involvement with it; about their eventual rescue of the robots from the compound; _everything._ Brad merely sat, stunned, ashen-faced, his lunch now utterly forgotten about, his mouthful of food remaining unswallowed the entire time.

"Well…that's the whole story," Jenny finished at last.

"Whoah…!" Brad whispered through a mouthful of half-chewed food. He swallowed, then took a long drink from his can of soda. "That is _unbelievable! Sheldon!_ As a _secret agent!_ Wow! Whoever would've thought? I _still_ can't believe it!" Then he broke into an impressed smile. "I never would've guessed it! **Whew!** That guy's got more nerve than I thought! First, the captain of a space pirate ship and now a secret agent!" Brad laughed out loud and shook his head, obviously impressed. "You know, we're gonna have to stop underestimating that guy!"

Jenny frowned; Brad's obvious admiration for Sheldon's exploits infuriated her. "That is _NOT_ the point!" she exclaimed. "The point is, he _lied_ to me! Kept secrets from me! _Spied_ on me—"

"Well, that last one he kinda does anyway though, right? So—"

"Oooooo, you're not listening!" Jenny fumed. "The point is, those creeps wanted to destroy my sisters and _all_ robots, and they wanted to do the same thing to me! And Sheldon was part of them!"

"Well…yeah, but…" Brad replied, thoughtfully. "But you told me yourself he eventually did the right thing and helped you in the end, right?" He paused. "Right? So what's the problem?"

"_Ohhhhhhh!"_ Jenny slammed her can of Cog-Aid on the table in disgust. "You just don't understand! The point is, he kept it all a _secret_ from me! He could've _said_ something! All those weeks he was working with that agency, he could've _said_ something to me about it, but he never did!"

"Well, yeah, but…if he was a secret agent, then doesn't that mean, you know, just that? Aren't they supposed to keep their identity a secret? As in, 'don't tell anybody'?" He paused. "And anyway, anytime he ever _does_ try to talk to you, don't you kinda…you know…" he hesitated. "Ignore him? Avoid him? Give him the brush-off?" When he saw that Jenny seemed to be getting more annoyed by this, he hastened to add; "And anyway, you said he _did_ ultimately warn you in time to—"

"You're not _listening!"_ Jenny interrupted, her patience now running out. _Why don't boys __listen__?_ She wondered. "He _still_ could've said something _before_ that, is the point! He could've—"

Brad shook his head, confused. "So, let me get this straight. Even though he was sworn to secrecy, and even though he did warn you in time, you're still mad at him because he didn't warn you _sooner?_ Is that it?" he asked. "'Cuz I don't get it… I'm confused."

Jenny rolled her eyes and faced the ceiling. "The point is, he should never have gotten mixed up with those creeps in the first place! He should have—"

Just then, Jenny was interrupted by the sound of the warning-bell ringing, signaling the end of lunch-period. She glanced up at the clock, and got up from the table, slurping the last of the Cog-Aid before tossing the can into the recycle-bin near the door.

"Ohhhhhh, what's the point of talking to you? You won't even _listen!" _she said disgustedly, before storming out of the cafeteria in a huff. "You just don't _understand!"_

Brad sat alone at the table for a few moments longer, the stunned look still remaining on his face, before finally muttering softly to himself, "You're right, Jen. I _don't_ understand…!"

* * *

Later that afternoon, Jenny hurried through the hallways, to make it to her next class before the final bell rang. Out of habit, her eyes scanned the milling throng before her, searching for early warning signs of impending annoyance.

_Good, good,_ she thought idly. _No sign of Sheldon, no sign of the Crust Cousins! I'm home free!_

Then, just as she turned sharply around a corner, she bumped face-to-face into…

Sheldon.

For a moment, the two merely stepped back in surprise, neither one speaking a word. They merely stared at each other.

At first, Jenny expected the usual "Sheldon Reaction" to seeing her: She expected him to get all glassy-eyed, with a big, goofy, crooked grin on his face, and to be immediately all over her like a puppy-dog, practically throwing himself at her feet, begging her to forgive him, asking yet again if she'd go out with him, etc., etc. She was so sick of it all by now, but also somewhat used to it. _Well,_ she thought, bracing herself for the onslaught. _Here we go again… Doesn't this guy ever give up?_

But instead, Sheldon reacted quite differently from the way he normally did. His eyes opened wide for a moment, as if in abject terror…then they softened into a look which Jenny had never seen in them before. It was a look of the deepest, most profound, unutterable sadness, as though he were about to break down and cry at any moment. Then, without a word, he suddenly turned around and walked briskly down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Jenny was so surprised at first that she didn't even react. _Huh…! _she thought. _That was weird!_ For a moment, she was almost tempted to call out after him and even half-raised her hand as if to wave at him, before slowly lowering it again. By then he had already disappeared out of sight around a corner.

Jenny merely shrugged, and continued on her way to her class. _Well, okay! Fine!_ She thought. _If he doesn't want to speak to me anymore, that's perfectly fine with me!_ She quickened her pace, and managed to barely make it through the classroom door just as the bell rang, settling into her seat as the teacher began calling the roll.

Sill, Jenny couldn't forget the look in Sheldon's eyes; that eerie, frightened-yet-sad look. It lasted only a moment…but its impress on her memory lasted much longer. It was a look that would continue to haunt her in the days that followed…

For the remainder of the day, she saw little of Sheldon, either in school or outside on her way home. A couple of times, she thought she'd caught a brief glimpse of him in the distance on her way to and from her locker. But she couldn't be sure if it was him or not. By the end of the day however, it was becoming increasingly obvious to her—incredible though it seemed…

…that Sheldon was _avoiding_ her.

* * *

Sheldon was indeed avoiding Jenny, there was no question about that. As soon as he spotted her from a distance, he scurried away in the opposite direction, and quickly lost himself in a crowd. _There are some advantages to being only five-feet-six!_ He thought, _and one of 'em is being able to disappear quickly in a crowd when you have to!_ He wasn't quite sure how Jenny would react to seeing him, whether she'd still be angry at him or if she'd be willing to forgive and forget. He doubted very much she'd be in a forgiving mood, but in any case, he wasn't about to take any chances. The prospect of seeing her—dealing with her—was simply too painful for him to even contemplate; he didn't even want to think about it. And, above all, he certainly didn't want to give her another excuse or opportunity to hurt him again, if he could possibly avoid it. Better to avoid the issue altogether by avoiding _her_… And, fortunately for Sheldon, that part was easy: After all, a six and a half foot tall, gleaming blue and white mechanical girl is going to stand out in _any_ crowd and be fairly easy to spot from a distance.

And, after school, the rest of the day was easy. Sheldon simply headed straight for home, where he could shut himself up in the quiet, safe seclusion of his bedroom or garage-workshop; only there could he truly relax and feel free to _think,_ to really fully contemplate and mull over his conflicting emotions towards Jenny.

It wasn't merely heartache that he felt, over being repeatedly rejected by Jenny, nor was it only his painful resolution to let her go and not pursue her any longer. It wasn't the recognition of the now-obvious fact that, not only did she not love him (he'd known that all along) or even _like_ him, or even think of him as a friend, despite her claims to _be_ 'just friends.' (And even then, as he thought about it now, the only times she even bothered with the pretense of 'friendship' was when she needed him—or rather, needed his technical skills, to do some minor repair or alteration on her body.) And it wasn't the hurtful things he'd heard her say about him during the time they'd known each other—hurtful things that, in the past, he was willing to ignore and overlook but which now came rushing back to him in a torrent; all the terrible things she'd called him over the years, never uttered to his face, of course, but spoken about him to others behind his back. And it wasn't only her most-recent and terrible betrayal of him, her use of her powers to attack him. Nor was it even his now-absolute certain knowledge that she _hated_ him.

It was all of those things, of course, but it was also something more, something much deeper: The growing awareness that Jenny, quite simply, was _not_ the Classic Heroine he'd once believed her to be, nor was she the kind and nice person he'd once believed her to be, either. She was simply a deeply-flawed individual, as capable of meanness and cruelty as any human; meanness and cruelty that at times exceeded anything done by a human, if for no reason than that her great powers gave her the ability to do greater harm (as his laser-scorched backside could readily attest.) Indeed, he'd witnessed a very, _very_ dark side to her nature that far exceeded any of the cruelty he'd experienced from the Crust Cousins, and they could be pretty cruel…

In fact, as he thought about it, Jenny had also on occasion been astonishingly cruel in her reciprocation against the Crust Cousins' torments. Some of it was justified, of course; and even defensible. But some of it definitely went too far, and even observing it from a distance, it shocked Sheldon to witness the extent to which Jenny could go; the occasion when she and her friend Misty had teamed up to exploit the Crust's deepest fears, for example. Recalling the incident still gave Sheldon the chills, and he was glad at the time that he'd not been the recipient of such treatment. Prior to that incident, he never would have believed that Jenny was capable of such cruelty; yet, she clearly _was._ And it both disturbed and greatly saddened Sheldon to have witnessed it for himself.

It was highly ironic, he thought at the time, that for so long, Jenny wanted to "fit in" with the "popular girls" and be just like the rest, and in a way, she got her wish in the end, though not in the way she'd intended: She ended up becoming just as cruel and hurtful as the Crust Cousins or Pteresa or any of the other snotty "popular" girls of Tremorton High.

And it was this growing realization that Jenny, in fact, was _not_ perfect, that she was _not_ the true, classic Super Heroine that he'd believed her to be, that she had, in fact, failed to live up to his high expectations of her, that made Sheldon realize something else: If _Jenny_ could fail to live up to those expectations because she was imperfect and flawed…then perhaps…just perhaps…those _ideals themselves,_ which Sheldon believed she represented and stood for, and in which he himself had trusted and believed all of his life…were _also_ flawed as well…

Contemplating this possibility shook Sheldon to the very core. Because, if that were the case, then that meant that he was a fool all his life to believe in those ideals, those virtues, those values that he'd long believed that heroes were supposed to represent and stand for.

After all, if one couldn't believe in heroes, if they would only let you down and even betray you, as Jenny did, then how could you believe in any of the things they were supposed to stand for? How could you believe in _anything,_ for that matter? What was there in life to believe in, if not ideals and virtues? Was it all just a con all along, and he was a fool for ever believing in any of it?

As troubling as these thoughts were, an even more troubling thought occurred to him as well, one that—up to now—he never even wanted to consciously think about. Now however, under the circumstances, he found that he could no longer keep it from his mind.

Was it possible, he now wondered, that when it came to Jenny's nature, her flawed personality, and all that went with it…was it possible—or even likely—that it was because she wasn't really a true 'person' after all? That he'd been merely deluding himself all this time, that there really was no one actually _there?_ That she was, when all was said and done…merely a machine? Nothing more?

Up to now, Sheldon never even wanted to consider it. Instead, he wanted so hard to believe that there was something special about her, something unique and real, that transcended all the high technology of her physical form; that somewhere, buried deep down inside all the steel and circuitry, there was a _girl,_ a genuine, kind-hearted, sweet-natured girl who could be reached, if only he were kind, loving, patient and persistent enough.

But he now he began to realize that he was mistaken. That he'd been very foolish and naïve, in ever believing that there could be anything more to Jenny than there was. Jenny was, had always been, and would always be just one thing: A machine. And nothing more. And as such, that meant that she _had_ no feelings, no emotions, nothing. She could not feel love _or_ hatred; it was simply impossible for her. Whatever indications there were that she had feelings or emotions were merely a simulation: a pre-programmed imitation of human emotional behavior; mere mimicry, nothing more. A machine following its programming. And that's all. That's all she—or rather it—could ever do. No more, no less. That being the case, it should hardly be surprising if she acted without apparent feelings, in a way that might be described as "cruel" or "heartless". She was literally incapable of behaving otherwise. She could not feel hatred for Sheldon any more than she could feel love. It was simply impossible.

_So I'm not really losing anything,_ he told himself. _Because there was never really anything there to begin with…_

It all seemed so obvious now, that Sheldon couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it sooner. As a science wiz, he should have seen it immediately, instead of allowing himself to be deluded by foolish romantic beliefs and notions. Had he done so, he could have spared himself a lot of time, energy and heartache on her over these past many months.

But as painful as it was for Sheldon to face the facts, it was also something of a relief. At least now he could finally see the situation with Jenny for what it really, truly was. As such, he would no longer delude himself with such foolish, misguided notions. From here on, he would look at things clearly and objectively. No more naïve, unrealistic beliefs in romantic ideals. No. There would only be the simple acknowledgement of reality as it was, the cold, hard, bitter reality of life. And if the only way to survive that cold, bitter reality was to be hard and cruel himself, then so be it. He would be just as hard and cruel as he needed to be to survive from now on. It was certainly better than the alternative…

For the mere briefest of moments, a small, tiny, spiteful part of Sheldon even wondered if things might have been just as well if that agency _had_ gone ahead with their plan to destroy all the robots after all, including Jenny. From where he stood now, they might as well have done so, for all the good his heroic actions on their behalf had done him.

But it was only a brief moment, and he quickly dismissed the thought. For as heartbroken as he still felt, and despite Jenny's cruel treatment of him, Sheldon couldn't bear the thought of anything terrible happening to her or to any of the other robots.

Nevertheless, he now felt as though he understood one or two things about how and why villains could come to act as they did. For an idle moment, he even wondered if the most fiendish arch-villains might perhaps have been cruelly betrayed by a friend at some point in their past, and whether that could explain their acts of villainy later in life.

But Sheldon did take some small consolation in one fact, though. That government-agency—as creepy and misguided in their goals as they were—had at least recognized and valued his talents, something that few others had ever done before. That thought alone gave Sheldon a renewed sense of confidence in himself, for he realized that, even though that agency was _not_ an organization that he wanted to be involved with, their interest in him nevertheless encouraged him to believe that there must be other possibilities in the world, other organizations, other agencies, other schools, other companies, other societies, other _people,_ who might also one day recognize and value his talents as well. In addition to a new sense of self-confidence, this thought also gave him great hope for the future. No longer did the future appear to be a vast wasteland of doubt and insecurity; instead, it now seemed to present a vast wealth of possibilities and opportunities awaiting him.

He took consolation in something else, too: A very important lesson he'd learned from his experiences in outer-space all those years: _Self-reliance. _ He had learned the hard way that, when the chips were down, he could depend on no one but himself. When all was said and done and he was in the last extremity, friends were nowhere to be found. They would always let you down and abandon you when you needed them most. In the final analysis, the only one he could truly count on in the end was _himself._ No one else.

And his experiences in outer-space had taught him something else, too: that he was a _survivor._ He could survive _anything,_ he now knew, and having lived the equivalent of several lifetimes, he now realized that there was very little in the world—or indeed, in the known _universe—_left to frighten him. One way or the other, he would persevere and survive, no matter what obstacles were thrown in his path. That being the case, he no longer feared and dreaded the future…or much else, for that matter. _School bullies? _He thought with a bitter laugh. _Hah!_ _What can they do to me now? I've spent a lifetime living among space-pirates! Nothing scares __me__ anymore!_

And as Sheldon consoled himself with these thoughts and these conclusions, he found that he drew strength, encouragement and comfort from them. They provided a tiny ray of light in the midst of his gloom. Tiny though that ray may have been, it was enough; enough to prevent him from giving in completely to despair.

And so, with this new mindset, Sheldon now turned his thoughts to the contents of his garage-workshop, where there was still one more item remaining, something which, he now realized, had long outlived its purpose; something he no longer wanted or needed, that had to be removed and disposed of. Only then could he finally let go of the past and begin to move forward.

_This weekend,_ he told himself, _I start dismantling Silver Shell…_

* * *

"I'm home, Mom!" Jenny called out as she walked in the front door. "Oops! I'm sorry!" she said in a hushed tone when she saw Dr. Wakeman was on the phone.

"Yes… Yes, thank you. I'll tell you more when I see you in your office tomorrow. Yes; tomorrow morning at 10. Thank you. Good bye." She hung up. When she turned to face her daughter, her face lit up, beaming in a broad smile.

"Ah, good, you're home!" she said, as she rose to her feet and approached her robotic daughter. "I've been on the phone all day, and I have some good news! I was finally able to get in touch with my friend, Senator Wizner, I told her the whole story, and she agreed with me, that it's something her Senate Subcommittee should look into and maybe call for a full Congressional investigation. In the meantime, she's also going to try to get an immediate injunction to shut down that agency—at least temporarily. And I've been in touch with Thurman Cutler, and even though I didn't tell him the whole story yet, from what I did tell him, he thinks we have a good case! And he's sure he'll be able to stave them off, in case they come back with warrants or court-orders or some such. And…well, I've made a few other phone-calls, to some contacts I have in various levels of Government, called in a few favors here and there. I even contacted a few old friends I still have in Skyway Patrol. Turns out they're not too happy about what happened either, since Tremorton is supposed to be their jurisdiction! They didn't like this agency moving in on their territory one bit! So they're going to investigate as well and probably file a formal protest up their chain of command and…well, we'll see how _that_ goes. So things are looking up for us! I think our troubles will soon be over."

"Oh. Okay." Jenny said, in a tone completely devoid of enthusiasm, then turned and started to head upstairs to her room.

Jenny's subdued reaction to the news surprised Dr. Wakeman. "XJ-9…? Is anything the matter?" she asked.

"No, no, everything's fine…"

"Everything operating within nominal limits? I'd better check—"

"Everything's _fine,_ Mom! Geez!" She continued up the stairs without another word.

Dr. Wakeman frowned and she stroked her chin, deep in thought. _Something __is__ wrong, though… There's something she's still not telling me… I __know__ it! I can __feel__ it!_

She turned and headed back to her study, where she sat back down at her desk, picked up the phone and began dialing again.

* * *

Sheldon was stirred from his thoughts by the sound of the phone ringing downstairs. In his present state of mind, he almost welcomed the distraction. He quickly rose to his feet and trotted downstairs, picking up the phone at the hallway telephone-table.

"Hello, Lee Residence, Sheldon Lee speaking," he answered. "Oh, hello, Dr. Wakeman. I'm fine, how're you…" He licked his lips; his mouth seemed to go dry all of a sudden. "Oh…well, um…about that…" He hesitated, trying to think. "Didn't—didn't you talk to Jenny yet?" he asked, trying not to stammer too much. "Didn't she tell you what happened?"

"Well, yes, she did," Dr. Wakeman replied. "But I would like to hear your version of it." Her voice was soft, even, but firm. It was clear from her tone that she expected straight answers, and fully intended to get them.

There was no avoiding it, Sheldon knew. He _had_ to tell Dr. Wakeman what happened. He felt his knees begin to buckle at the prospect, and he pulled up a chair to sit down. "Yeah, I've been meaning to tell you about that…" he began, nervously. "You see, a couple of months ago, these two guys showed up at my school, and…"

From there, Sheldon proceeded to tell her the whole story, about his involvement with the secret Government agency, their purposes and intentions, and about the chain of events that eventually reached a climax at the secret government compound outside the city-limits. Sheldon didn't really want to go through and relive the whole miserable experience all over again by re-telling it, but a part of him was actually glad for the opportunity to do so. Perhaps then he might be able to put the whole sorry business behind him…somehow. And as he told the story, he felt as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He told Dr. Wakeman everything. Everything, that is, except for the part about Jenny losing her temper, flying after him, chasing him and firing her laser-cannons at him. Try as he might, he just couldn't bring himself to mention that part, no matter how hurt and angry he still felt about it.

"So that's the whole story, Dr. Wakeman." He said, as he finished. "All of it."

"I see," she drawled at the other end of the line. Though he couldn't see it, Sheldon had the uncanny feeling, from her tone of voice, that she was frowning.

A long silence followed; then, "Sheldon," Dr. Wakeman said evenly. "I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me. Is there?"

"What? No, Dr. Wakeman; that's everything, the whole story."

Another long silence. "Sheldon," she said gently. "Did something happen between you and XJ-9 out at that compound?"

Sheldon swallowed hard. _How did she know?_ He wondered, briefly. "Um…no! No…!" he stammered. "Nothing happened! Did she say something happened? Nothing happened!"

"Well, so far, XJ-9 hasn't said much of _anything,_ other than basically the same story you've just told me."

"Oh, well then, whatever she told you happened, that's what happened." He gulped hard, hoping it couldn't be heard over the phone.

Another long silence followed. Then, Dr. Wakeman asked in a quiet but coldly clinical tone that chilled Sheldon to the bone. "Sheldon…did XJ-9…_do_ something…? Out at that compound? Something she shouldn't have?"

Sheldon felt the blood drain from his face, and his mouth was by now as dry as cotton. "Umm…no, no, nothing happened!" he repeated. "Did she say she did anything? Well, she didn't; she didn't do anything wrong." Sweat was now pouring off of him.

Silence followed. When it became unbearable, Sheldon spoke again. "Well, um…if there's nothing else, Dr. Wakeman," he stammered. "I've still got some homework to do, so…"

"Sheldon," Dr. Wakeman interrupted, before her voice became very, very quiet. "I'll ask you again. Did XJ-9 do something…_wrong…?"_ She paused. "Because if she did, then I want to know about it. And I want to know the truth."

Silence.

"Sheldon," she asked, barely above a whisper. "Did XJ-9…_do_ something…to you…? Did she…_hurt_ you in any way…?"

Sheldon swallowed hard, and a long silence followed before he finally responded.

"No," he lied. "She didn't do anything." He managed to keep his tone even, though his hands trembled a mile a minute as he spoke the words. Sheldon liked Dr. Wakeman and had enormous respect for her, and he felt terrible about having to lie to her. But in spite of everything, he just couldn't bear to tell the truth about Jenny and get her into trouble.

Another long silence followed, only broken by Dr. Wakeman. "I see…" she said quietly. It was clearly evident that she still didn't entirely believe Sheldon, but apparently was willing to let the matter drop for now. "Well then," she said. "I'll let you go for now. But I would like to talk to you more about this matter at a later time, and get some more details, if that's all right with you."

"Sure, Dr. Wakeman; sure thing! I—I'll talk to you later then. Okay. 'Bye." He hung up the phone and fell back against the wall with a huge sigh of relief.

* * *

End Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3--Reprimand and Regrets

**Resolution**

A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic

By Shvique

_Author's Note: First off, a big thank-you to all those fans who've chosen to spend time reading my little (ha!) opus, and an especially big shout-out thank you to those who've even left some very-encouraging reviews; thanx a big huggy-bunch to you all. With this chapter, the story really starts to get...interesting; at least, I think so &amp; hope you'll agree. As always, feedback &amp; comments welcome, and in the meantime...Enjoi!_

_-Shvique_

* * *

**Chapter 3—Reprimand and Regrets**

It was a beautiful, clear, brightly sunlit day in late Spring, as Jenny rocketed through the skies over Tremorton. Normally, she preferred to walk home from school, so that she could spend time talking with her best friend Brad, as well as to save energy in case she might need it later on to deal with an unexpected crisis of some kind (which seemed to happen almost daily in Tremorton.) But once in a while, on a beautiful day like today, she couldn't contain herself and just had to blast off and soar through the skies as fast as she could, simply for the sheer joy and pleasure of it.

It felt _wonderful_ to be able to do that, one of the rare occasions when she could truly forget about her size, her weight and her appearance, where she didn't stand out from the crowd and feel like a freak. The sky was one place where she felt truly_ free…free_ from all the troubles, cares and concerns that made her daily life such a hassle sometimes.

She poured on an extra burst of speed from her rocket-jets and did a quick loop-the-loop, followed by a barrel-roll, then shot straight up, reached the apex of a parabolic curve, and hovered there for just a moment, savoring the sensation of weightlessness, as she looked down at the beautiful view of Tremorton, far, far below. All her troubles and cares seemed so far away, and she could finally just _relax…_

She leaned back and stretched herself, settling onto the top of a cloud, folding her hands behind her head as though she were lying on a beach in Summertime, basking in the sun. _Ahhhhhhhh,_ she thought. _This feels __wonderful__! I think I'll just stay here for awhile…_

The stillness of the cold, crisp high-altitude air was interrupted by a low-pitched roar, very soft, very faint, as though coming from a great distance. Jenny's eyes blinked open, and she looked around for the source of the sound. Even when relaxing, as now, she knew she always had to be vigilant, alert and ready for signs of trouble…

She looked all around her before she spotted the source of the sound: A whirling, silver saucer-shaped object sailing across the sky in the distance. _Silver Shell!_ She thought, excitedly. _It's the Silver Shell!_ Immediately, she rose up and bounced with joy above the cloud at the chance encounter. It was one of the very-rare occasions when the Silver Shell was around…and no signs of trouble in sight to interrupt them!

Without a moment's hesitation, Jenny rocketed off in the direction of the silvery disc. In no time flat, she few up alongside it. "Hey, Silver Shell!" she called out with a smile.

The silver disc continued in its trajectory, maintaining its rate of speed.

"Hey, Silver Shell!" Jenny called out again. "It's me! Jenny! XJ-9! Come on, don't tell me you don't remember me!"

Now the silvery disc abruptly stopped in its trajectory, and unfolded to take the familiar form of Jenny's sometimes-friend, sometimes-crime-fighting partner, Silver Shell.

"Oh. Yes. XJ-9." Silver Shell said simply. And rather…coldly, it seemed to Jenny.

"So, where are you going?" she inquired, amiably.

"Well, I need to…" Silver Shell began, hesitantly. "I need to…take care of a private matter. If you'll excuse me." With that, Silver Shell began to transform back into his disc-shaped form.

"Hey, wait!" Jenny called out. "Maybe I can come along? Maybe I can help?" she suggested.

Silver Shell paused before answering. "Um… No. I…don't think that would be such a good idea." Again, he turned to depart without another word.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Jenny was beginning to get a bit annoyed—again!—by Silver Shell and his somewhat distant attitude towards her. "What's the matter? Silver Shell? Is there something wrong?" She paused. "Are you…_angry_ at me or something?"

It was difficult for Jenny to read any expression on Silver Shell's face even in the best of times; the design of his face was nowhere near as sophisticated as hers when it came to its ability to express emotions. And yet…Jenny thought she detected a certain…_discomfort_ on his part, a reluctance to answer her.

At last, he replied. "Well, it's just that… It was something I heard… Something about you and a friend breaking up a secret government agency's operation to destroy robots."

"You heard about that?" Jenny was surprised. And in fact, now that she thought about it, she was also somewhat surprised that he hadn't been taken prisoner along with the rest of the robots.

"Of course I heard about it!" Silver Shell replied. "I narrowly avoided capture by them myself. I was in the process of mounting my own rescue operation when—"

"When I did the job for you!" Jenny finished for him. "Again! Is that what this is about? You're angry because I acted first and saved the day and not you?"

"It's not that," Silver Shell retorted. "I'm glad you were successful in breaking up the agency. I'm very happy for you on that account. It's just that…" he trailed off.

"It's just _what?"_ Jenny folded her arms, and raised one eyebrow expectantly.

"It's just…what I heard about what happened out there, what you did…" There was now no disguising a certain _coldness_ in his tone of voice, even allowing for the fact that he was, like her, a robot.

"What do you mean, 'What we did'?" Jenny said. "You know the story already. We broke up the operation and freed my sisters and the other robots. And that was that."

"And who's _'we?'"_ Now it was Silver Shell's turn to fold his arms, as he eyed Jenny with one raised eyebrow.

"Me and a friend of mine."

Silver Shell snorted. "And what did you _do_ to this…'friend' of yours afterward? How did you thank him for his help? How did you repay him?"

Jenny began to get a very unsettling feeling, and began to wonder just how much Silver Shell actually knew about the whole incident. "You seem to know an awful lot about what happened that day, for someone who wasn't even there!" she retorted defensively…and with growing suspicion.

"Just answer the question," Silver Shell challenged.

Jenny sighed in annoyance. "Okay, fine! You're talking about Sheldon, right? All right, all right, I know that he must've gotten to you somehow, and told you the whole story—or at least his version of it—right? I don't know how he happens to know you—and I don't even care! And I don't care what he told you, either. But whatever he told you, he only told you his side of the story!"

"Just tell me one thing, then. _Is it true?"_

"Is what true? Of course, it is! I told you! We broke up the agency and—"

"That's not what I mean. I mean, is it true that you…" he paused, then lowered his voice. "…used your powers against him? To _attack_ him?"

Jenny was so stunned that Silver Shell could possibly even know about that part of the story, that she was momentarily unable to respond.

"Well…?" he asked. "Is it true?"

Finally, she admitted, "Well…_yes,_ but—"

"It _is_ true, then?" Silver Shell interrupted.

Jenny lowered her head, and her shoulders drooped. "Yes. It's true," she said, quietly.

A long silence followed. When she could no longer bear it, Jenny looked up and studied Silver Shell's face. There was no concealing the look of deep, profound disappointment.

At last, he said quietly, shaking his head. "I'd heard about it…but I didn't want to believe it. I said, 'No, no, that can't be. That's not XJ-9. She would never do a thing like that. Turn against a friend? Use her powers against him? Against a _human _friend, no less? A _defenseless human?'"_ He continued shaking his head, disapprovingly. "Apparently, I was wrong."

Again, Jenny lowered her head, rather than see the reproachful look on Silver Shell's face.

"I just don't see how you could do such a terrible thing! To betray a friend that way and attack him with your powers!" He said. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"But…but Silver Shell! What about what _he_ did?!" Jenny said, her voice rising. "What about him being involved with that agency in the first place? I mean, they could've destroyed _all_ of us, including you!"

"XJ-9—!"

"I don't understand how you can defend the guy!" She went on, disgustedly. "I mean, even apart from the fact that he's a total creep and a stalker, and _constantly_ getting in my way—I mean, just what is with you two anyway? How do you even know him? And don't tell me you—"

"_XJ-9!" _Silver Shell interrupted harshly; then "Jenny," he said in a gentler tone. "This isn't about…Sheldon. Do you understand? It's not about him. It's about _you._ Don't you realize that you've done just about the _worst_ possible thing you could do as a robot? Not only have you turned against a friend, but you've attacked a human being! One of the very people we're supposed to help and protect whenever we can! You have violated the First Law of Robotics! That is something we _never_ do! _Ever!"_

Jenny dropped her head in shame, wincing at the painful reminder of her status as a robot. "I _know!"_ she grumbled, defensively. "I know all about that 'Law of Robotics' junk! I've heard it all my life!"

"Then as a robot, you should also know that the _First_ law is also our most sacred law! It's a Law of Trust, the law that must _never _be violated!_ Ever! _For _any_ reason! _'A Robot must never harm a human for any reason, nor through inaction, allow a human to come to harm!'"_

Jenny winced again, at hearing the Law recited to her verbatim, in total, thereby reminding her of another time she'd harmed Sheldon, although through inaction: By abandoning him in space for over 90 years. She hoped Silver Shell hadn't heard about _that_ incident as well…

"Robots such as you and I are very fortunate to have come equipped with great powers and capabilities; powers that can accomplish great things or inflict great harm. They were given to us to be used in trust; _never_ to be misused! It's up to each and every one of us to use those powers _responsibly!_ And that means we _only_ use our powers against enemies, to defend ourselves and others from attack, or to help rescue people in the event of disasters. We _never_ use our powers to hurt our human friends! _Ever!_ We just don't _do_ that!"

Jenny lowered her head, and a deep scowl appeared on her face. But she remained silent.

"I don't need to tell you that there's still a great deal of prejudice against robots among the human population!" Silver Shell went on. "All these decades that we robots have been around, helping mankind, proving our value and our worth to them with our efforts, our hard work and our good deeds, and yet there are still plenty of humans who don't trust us, who think we're dangerous, who think we're out to enslave and destroy them! All the good deeds we've done for them over the years, and they still don't trust us! Now, tell me: How much trust do you think they would have in us if every time one of us got angry we were to lash out at them the way you have? Using our great strength and powers to attack and injure them?" He paused. "Well…?"

Jenny didn't answer. She merely hung her head, staring at the tips of her toes, scowling in silence.

"All our years of faithful service to the human world, now utterly wasted!" he went on. "Now, thanks to you and your reckless act in a fit of anger, word will get around and even more humans will distrust us and think of us all as nothing more than—than _machines! Dangerous_ machines that can't be trusted!"

"But…! But…!" Jenny looked up and protested, timidly.

"And not only have you violated the First Law of Robotics," Silver Shell continued. "You've also violated the 'Hero's Code' as well!"

Jenny lowered her head again, wincing at yet-another painful reminder of a serious transgression she'd committed.

"You know as well as I do what the 'Hero's Code' states: You must _never_ use your powers in anger, for revenge, or to hurt someone weaker than yourself or who can't defend himself. _Never!_ But that's exactly what you've done to your friend!"

Silver Shell paused, then dropped his voice so low it sounded like an extremely large, scary dog growling.

"If you had joined The Cluster alongside of Queen Vexus herself," he went on, his voice dripping with contempt. "You couldn't have done more harm to the image, the cause and the reputation of good robots everywhere than you have with this one careless, reckless act of yours!"

At this last comment, Jenny snapped her head up, the pain and shock of his words clearly evident on her face. But before she could respond, Silver Shell turned to leave.

"Silver Shell, _wait!"_ she called out to him.

But with a final shake of his head, Silver Shell simply replied, "I'm sorry, XJ-9, but after what you've done, I'm afraid we can no longer be friends. Good bye." And with that, he transformed back into his silver disc-shaped form, and zipped away beyond the horizon, faster than Jenny had ever seen anything travel.

"_Silver Shell!"_ She cried out, rocketing after him at her fastest speed but unable to catch up. _"Silver Shell, wait! Wait!"_ She poured on an extra burst of speed, but only seemed to fall farther and farther behind.

"_Silver Shell!"_ She continued to cry out as her speed gradually slowed until she froze in mid-air, as though she were stuck in cement. The surrounding clouds seemed to envelop her, wrapping themselves around her, further hindering her progress. _"Silver Shell, wait! Wait!"_

The sky grew darker and more pale, the bright blue fading to a dull grey, the white, puffy clouds dissipating and merging with the grey. The formerly vast expanse of sky began to contract, forming walls which seemed to close in upon her…

"_Silver Shell, wait! Wait!"_ Jenny continued to cry out,her arms flailing about her bed in her half-awakened state, her body now thoroughly cocooned in the blankets.

Her eyes snapped open as she looked around at the familiar surroundings of her bedroom and struggled to collect her thoughts. Gradually, as she reoriented herself, she relaxed and raised her hands to her face. _It was only a dream!_ She thought. _But what a dream!_ It wasn't like any of the other dreams she'd ever had. Her other dreams in the past had always been pleasant ones, fun, fanciful, even joyous. This one, however…was different. Troubling. And disturbing. _Very_ disturbing…

She threw off the blankets and climbed out of bed, her feet very unsteady, and headed into the bathroom, for a quick wash and polish before school.

When she entered the kitchen a few minutes later, her creator greeted her warmly.

"Good morning, XJ-9!" Dr. Wakeman said, handing her robotic daughter a can of 10W/40.

"Morning…" Jenny replied gloomily, as she took her usual seat at the breakfast-table, popping the oil-can with her fingertip-turned-can-opener.

"Sleep well?"

"_Terrible…"_

"Ah. Well, maybe you've picked up a small virus in your OS—See, I _told_ you not to download online data from unsecured sources!"

"No, no, it's not that…"

"Well then, perhaps you picked up a nanite from the last time you were in outer space. Which reminds me, did you ever properly decontaminate from that?"

"Yes, Mother!" Jenny replied, grumpily.

"Well in that case, then perhaps we'd better run a complete systems-check on you after breakfast, before you head off to school."

"I told you, Mother I'm perfectly fine!" Jenny snapped. "I just…I had a weird dream last night, that's all."

"Weird?" Dr. Wakeman arched an eyebrow. "Weird, _how?"_

"Just…_weird."_ Jenny replied dismissively, with a wave of her hand. "Full of…disturbing ideas…" she lowered her eyes and stared at the table top, clutching the oil-can tightly between her hands.

"So it wasn't what you'd call a 'good dream,' then, was it?"

"Definitely not."

"Hmmm," Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "A bad dream… A robotic nightmare... Fascinating…" She shook her head. "That can't be right. It shouldn't even be possible, in fact. I designed the dream-chip to produce only pleasant dreams, based on happy sensations, ideas, thoughts and recollections you've had, or things you've read or heard about." She paused. "Unless…" She hesitated.

"Unless what?" Jenny asked, looking up, suddenly interested.

"Well… It's a long shot…a thousand-to-one possibility…but it's just barely possible…" Dr. Wakeman paused, then went on cautiously. "Is it possible you have something on your mind? Something that's troubling you…? Something you haven't told me about…?"

"Like what?" Jenny narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Well, like…anything. It could be anything at all you'd like to talk about; anything at all."

Jenny looked her creator straight in the eye. It was uncanny the way Dr. Wakeman often seemed to know—or at least strongly suspect—what Jenny was thinking about at any given time.

"Well…? Is there…?" Dr, Wakeman asked gently. "You know you can tell your mom anything."

In the silence that followed, it seemed for one brief moment that Jenny would finally open up and speak openly about what was obviously troubling her. But instead, she looked away, glanced at the clock on the wall, leapt to her feet and said, "Maybe…maybe later. Crikey! Look at the time! I've gotta get going—"

"But school doesn't even start for another 45 minutes!" Dr. Wakeman called out. "That's more than enough time for me to run quick systems-check."

Jenny froze in her tracks, halfway to the front door.

"Yes, perhaps I should, now that I think of it; just a quick systems-check to make sure everything's running smoothly, inside and out." Dr. Wakeman went on. "Since you don't feel like talking."

Jenny sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Come along, now; down to the lab." Dr. Wakeman rose from the table and turned to the stairs. "It should only take about 20 minutes or so, and we have more than enough time for that."

"Oh, but _Mommmmm…!"_ Jenny whined. "Do I _have_ to?

"Yes, you have to! Now, no more arguing! Downstairs, young lady!"

"But I feel perfectly _fine!"_

"XJ-9…!" Dr. Wakeman's patience was beginning to run out.

"But _Mom!"_

"_Lab! Now!" _ Dr. Wakeman insisted, pointing an index finger downward for emphasis.

Jenny sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine!" she fumed, as she turned on her heel and headed for the stairs, followed by her creator.

"And don't you roll your eyes at me like that, young lady, or they'll roll out, fall on the floor and we'll only have to put them back in again!"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jenny sat on the laboratory examination-table as Dr. Wakeman concluded the last steps of the brief systems-check she'd run.

"Can I go now?" Jenny said, her arms folded impatiently.

"Yes, you may go now," Dr. Wakeman drawled, as she examined the printouts. "But these readings… Hmmm…"

"Well, what's wrong with them?" Jenny asked, stepping down off the table.

"Everything seems to be within acceptable limits…but…they're very…unusual."

"Unusual? How?"

"Well, for example, the log for the conscience sub-program is showing unusually high readings, indicating increased and very erratic activity."

The log was encoded, of course, so that Dr. Wakeman couldn't read it, in order to protect the privacy of Jenny's thoughts. However, the increased levels of the readout concerned Dr. Wakeman; they confirmed her suspicions that something was troubling her daughter, something she obviously wasn't willing to talk about.

She lowered the printouts and regarded her daughter silently. After a moment, she said, "XJ-9, are you _sure_ there isn't something you want to tell me…?"

"I _told_ you mom, everything's fine!" She headed for the door. "I'm fine, really." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Crikey! Look at the time! I'd better get moving or I'm _really_ gonna be late! See ya later, after school! Love ya, Mom!" With that, she charged back upstairs, grabbed her backpack and zoomed out the front door.

Dr. Wakeman continued to study the printouts, frowning._ I don't like the looks of this,_ she thought. _Not at all…_

* * *

The remainder of the day and the next few as well proceeded much the same as usual for Jenny, as she settled back into her normal boring daily school routine. She went to and from class, dealt with the usual sniping comments of the Crust Cousins and their 'posse' (which, annoying though they were, she was at least more or less used to by now), suffering through endless, tedious lectures from long-winded teachers, and all the rest. About the only thing that was different and out-of-the-ordinary was Sheldon.

Throughout the day, she caught only the rarest of glimpses of him now and then. On a few, very rare occasions, she had even come within close enough proximity to make eye-contact with him, and—just as happened on the first day—she again caught the curious, strangely-sad-yet-frightened look in his eyes for just the briefest of moments, after which he did a quick about-face and scurried away in the opposite direction. Once or twice, she even called out after him, "Hey, Sheldon! Wait up!" But he either hadn't heard, or he ignored her; either way, he merely quickened his pace and soon lost himself in the crowd.

For one brief, nanoseconds-long moment, she considered running after him; but…she didn't. Instead, she merely shrugged, and continued on her way to her next class.

_What is with him?_ She wondered, idly. _Is he still sulking about what happened the other day?_

Her first response, at experiencing Sheldon's sudden, unexpected distance from her, was a one of relief. _Finally!_ She thought. _He must've finally got it into his head that I'm not interested in him!_ For the first time since she'd known him, she could now be free of the annoying little pest, and could just relax, not having to deal with him constantly getting in the way, breathing down her neck, in general being a nuisance. She might even able to actually concentrate on her studies for a change.

In the few classes they shared together, Sheldon never so much as looked at her. He never spoke to her or even came anywhere near her. He kept a discrete—though obvious—distance from her at all times, and during the brief periods before class began, he merely sat at his desk with his nose buried in a book or a manga. And during the class, Sheldon kept his eyes riveted on the teacher or the blackboard the entire time, as though either one were an object of the deepest fascination to him.

On one occasion, in the short interim before class began, Jenny spoke to him from her desk a couple of rows away. "Sheldon?" she called out. He didn't acknowledge her.

"Hey, Sheldon," she called out again, slightly louder.

This time, he turned to face her, and when he looked at her, Jenny saw in his eyes the coldest, most chillingly lifeless look in them that she had ever seen; completely devoid of warmth, humor or the uniquely-geeky, goofy charm that she had come to know so well from him.

Moreover, it was a look, not of a friend, or even an enemy, but rather one of a total stranger; one who not only didn't recognize her, but one who didn't even seem to know what she was.

It was a look that made her feel like an object, rather than a person.

The look so chilled Jenny that she felt as though all the oil in her entire body had congealed in an instant.

"Yeah?" he responded, coldly.

"You all right?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm _fine."_ he replied curtly, turning his attention back to the manga in his hands.

Jenny blinked in surprise at the unexpected coldness of his manner, then turned away. _Okay, fine! _she thought. _Be that way!_

But in the back of her mind, a tiny kernel of unease formed. Over time, it gradually began to grow and slowly gnaw at her…

* * *

Lunchtime arrived, and Jenny drew up a chair and sat beside Brad at their usual table in the cafeteria. She poked a hole in the top of a can of Cog-Aid, and began sipping it with a straw, while Brad struggled to saw his way through a particularly tough facsimile of a Salisbury steak with a plastic knife—a meal which Brad suspected had been constructed of recycled car-tires. When the knife finally broke in two, Brad sighed in frustrated annoyance, skewered the steak with a plastic fork, and shoved the entire rubbery mass into his mouth, struggling to chew and swallow the inedible lump without gagging.

The first thing that Brad noticed—apart from the especially poor quality of the food that day—was that Jenny was so unusually quiet. Normally full of cheerful, convivial chit-chat, her sudden silence today troubled him. He sensed that something was on her mind, but he knew enough by now not to press her on it—whatever it was.

Silence weighed heavily upon the two friends for most of the lunch hour, broken only when Jenny suddenly spoke up, "Say, do you know what's up with Sheldon?"

"Sheldon?" Brad looked up, surprised. He struggled to swallow. "No. He looks the same to me," he said, glancing over to the distant corner of the cafeteria, where Sheldon sat, alone. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, he's been acting kinda weird lately."

"Weird like how? I mean, weird for Sheldon or just weird for anybody?"

"Weird for Sheldon_."_ She said. "You know how he's normally always hanging around me, following me everywhere, getting in the way and everything? Well the last few days—today especially—he's been avoiding me, like I got the plague or another space-germ or something."

"Oh." Brad swallowed. "Well…" he took a drink of soda. "I mean, that's good, right? Isn't that what you wanted? For him to leave you alone and not bother you all the time?"

"I guess… I don't know. It's just… Something about the way he's acting just doesn't feel right."

Brad shrugged. "I didn't think you cared about him all that much, one way or the other."

"I _don't!"_ Jenny snapped, with a certain sharpness that raised Brad's eyebrows. "It just…irritates me."

Brad fell silent for a moment; then shrugged and decided to try to cheer her up by joking about it. "Yeah, I guess it's kinda like when I had my arm in a cast one Summer." He said. "When the cast was on, I hated it. It was always getting in the way; it was a real pain, lugging it around everywhere. I couldn't go swimming, I had to shower with my arm in a plastic bag to keep the cast dry; it was a real hassle. But when it finally came off and wasn't there anymore, I kinda missed it!" He laughed, hoping to coax a smile out of her.

But nothing. Deadpan. Jenny merely sat, frowning at the tabletop, her cheek resting gloomily against her palm.

Brad decided to try again. "One good thing about the cast, though." He went on. "At least it got me out of having to help change Tuck's diapers for awhile!" he laughed again, now convinced Jenny would at least crack a smile.

Still nothing. Jenny merely sat, furiously sipping at her can of Cog-Aid.

"I just—I don't like being snubbed that way by anyone, that's all." She said, quietly.

"Oh." Brad knew that this was a sore sticking-point for Jenny. She'd always been very sensitive to feeling left out and excluded, even if it was done by someone as inconsequential as Sheldon. And yet….Brad had a feeling that there was more going on here than met the eye. "Well," he suggested. "Maybe it's got something to do with…" he hesitated, then went on. "…you know, that Government agency he was mixed up with."

Silence. Jenny glanced briefly at Brad, then turned and stared at the table-top, her pretty features hardening into a fierce scowl.

"I guess you're still pretty mad about him being mixed up with them, huh…" Brad coaxed, trying to sound helpful.

More chilly silence. Jenny's scowl deepened, and she slurped furiously at her can of Cog-Aid.

"Um…Jen, I…" Brad began, hesitantly. "I—I don't wanna say anything, but I kinda get the feeling there's more going on here than you're telling me."

Jenny turned away to face the wall, but still said nothing.

"Well?" Brad asked, quietly. "Is there?"

"Ohhhhh, I don't want to talk about it!" she snapped with a sudden vehemence that made Brad jump.

"_Okay, okay!"_ Brad said, raising his hands in a gesture of abject surrender. "Sorry I asked!"

An awkward silence followed for the next few minutes, while Brad hurriedly finished the remainder of his lunch. "Well…" he said at last, looking up at the clock. "Lunchtime's nearly over &amp; I gotta get to a class. If I'm late again, Old Man Freelingheusen'll skin me alive!" He picked up his now-empty tray from the table, and headed for the exit. "See you later, maybe? After school?"

"Yeah…sure, Brad…" Jenny remained at the table, alone, for another minute or two until the warning bell rang, then she rose to her feet and slowly left the cafeteria.

* * *

By mid-week, Sheldon's distant behavior and attitude toward Jenny really began to trouble her. What's more, she was even _more_ troubled by the fact that it troubled her _at all._ In fact, it somewhat irritated her that she found herself devoting more and more time to thinking about him.

She tried to dismiss the uneasy feeling in the back of her mind, shrugging it off as nothing that concerned her. _What do I care if he wants to avoid me?_ She told herself. _I don't care; he's nothing to me; nothing at all... If he wants to avoid me, that suits me fine! I'm glad to be rid of him!_

And yet…

No matter how hard Jenny tried to convince herself that she didn't care…the truth was, a small tiny little part of her _did_ care, and more than she was willing to admit, even to herself. As she was by now beginning to realize, she had gotten somewhat used to having Sheldon around. Sure, his constant, unrelenting attention got on her last positronic nerve sometimes; and yes, he had an uncanny knack for getting in the way and otherwise interfering at the worst possible times (usually when she least had the time or patience to deal with him.)

And yet, at the same time, there was no denying that, in his own, geeky, annoying way, he had managed to get under her metallic skin, and not just in a bad and annoying way, either. She hated to admit it, but he did have a kind of 'ugly little puppy dog' charm about him (although, like an ugly little puppy that repeatedly pees on the carpet, Sheldon could still manage to try her patience to the limit!)

The truth was, Jenny had never really gotten used to the reactions she received from people when they saw her for the first time. Even those who had, over time, become more or less used to her unusual appearance, were never really able to entirely relax or feel comfortable around her. It was always obvious, though they usually tried to conceal it. But Sheldon, along with Brad and Tuck, of course, was among the very few people who seemed to completely accept her as a person and even as a friend right from the beginning. (Though Sheldon, of course, never seemed to be quite satisfied at keeping it at mere 'friendship,' just as he couldn't seem to take 'no' for an answer.)

But now, it appeared that Sheldon was also reacting to her with the same fear and suspicion that others displayed when they'd first seen her. And she knew full well why…

And as the days passed, little by little the anger and resentment that Jenny felt towards Sheldon began to dissipate. She still felt very hurt over the way he'd deceived her and kept secrets from her; but at the same time, the more she thought about it, the less clear-cut the whole issue seemed to be.

She spent many long hours in the afternoons and evenings after school, lying on her bed, trying to sort out her own conflicted feelings on the matter. There were so many puzzling questions which still lingered in the back of her mind, which continued to vex her. And, though she tried hard to avoid it, Jenny also thought about her own treatment of Sheldon in the past. It was thinking about this which troubled her the most…

The fact was, ever since Sheldon had stolen her plans months ago, Jenny felt that she could never entirely trust him. Now, of course, she knew that the distrust she felt was well-founded: Sheldon could _never_ be trusted. Sheldon was not merely an obnoxious stalker; he was someone who'd invaded her most private sanctuary—her _home!—_and stolen her most personal, private possession: _her plans!_ So of course, she had gotten very angry at him. And—she had to admit—she was forced to get a little rough with him as well. She felt a little bad about it afterward, about using her superior strength and power against him that way. But he'd made her so angry, that she just couldn't help herself. _Besides,_ she told herself, _he did have it coming!_

Even though Sheldon apologized and Jenny eventually forgave him and even tried to remain on somewhat friendly terms with him after that, the fact remained that Sheldon simply couldn't be trusted. It was as simple as that. And that fact seemed clearer now than ever, now that he had actively participated in a plan to destroy herself and other robots.

She knew all this perfectly. And yet…she still had doubts…

As she thought about it more and more, and despite her lingering distrust of him, she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than that; if there was another side that she hadn't considered. After all, at the secret-agent compound that fateful day, Sheldon had displayed a level of courage and self-sacrifice in her defense and in the defense of the other robots that she'd never seen in him before, and she was both astonished and impressed by it. It was hard to reconcile such acts of bravery with someone who would willingly betray her and others of her kind, she thought; Sheldon especially. After all, he _loved_ technology! All technology, but robots especially. As Jenny thought more and more about it, she realized that she really couldn't imagine Sheldon willingly participating in something so horrible as a plot to destroy robots. It was inconceivable; such a thing simply went against his nature.

So was it possible, she wondered, that she had somehow been mistaken? Was it possible that Sheldon had somehow been misled by the agency, just as he said he was? After all, as smart as Sheldon was, he was also somewhat naïve. Now that she thought about it calmly, it seemed entirely possible that he could have been misled and taken in by them, just as he said. And if that were the case, then had she in fact misjudged him? Had she been unfair? Had she overreacted? Again? She _had_ been doing that a lot lately, she knew; it was one of her worst faults, one she wasn't proud of. Her mom was constantly on her case about it, in fact. _"Oh, XJ-9, don't overreact!"_ her mom would so often say…

And it wouldn't be the first time that she had misjudged someone and overreacted, either. After all, she had misjudged Dr. Locus' daughter Melody, and even picked a fight with her, for absolutely no reason whatsoever! Jenny felt terrible about it afterward too, when she realized that Melody wasn't a threat and had no intention of harming anyone. What was worse, as she later came to realize, the two of them might even have become friends in time… But instead, her quick temper and hasty actions drove Melody away, probably never to return…

And there was that other time, during a rehearsal of the school's drama-club, when that group of little green aliens had come to her for help, to warn her of an oncoming invasion by another, hostile race of aliens. And rather than listen to them and offer them her protection, she'd beaten them all up without even giving them a chance to explain themselves. She'd felt horribly guilty about _that_ afterward, too.

So had she been at mistaken in this case as well? And overreacted? And, in the process, had she lost a good friend, a trusted friend, without even realizing it? After all, she didn't really have that many friends to begin with; she certainly couldn't afford to lose any of the few she had.

She winced at the thought, and tried to put it from her mind. But as she thought about it, a new, even more disturbing question occurred to her for the very first time, one that—up until now—she never even wanted to think about:

_What kind of a friend have I really been to Sheldon?_ She asked herself.

She thought about how Sheldon treated her during the time they'd known each other. True, he did have his annoying ways, and had done things in the past that really fried her circuits. But at the same time, she couldn't help but also think about all of all his good qualities, too. For the most part, he was basically a good-natured guy. Even when she herself wasn't in the best of moods, he could usually be counted on to be cheerful and happy to see her. And, despite the usually disastrous results, his intentions were usually good. And like Brad and her mom, he seemed to genuinely care about her and her welfare.

And she thought about all the numerous acts of kindness Sheldon had done for her, all the little favors, all the small gifts that he'd made for her, built with his own hands, such as that fun little transceiver doohickey he'd made, that Sebastian had somehow gotten ahold of and thought was some sort of robotic flower. And, of course, there were all the times she'd asked Sheldon to help repair and even sometimes modify her body in ways that she knew her mom wouldn't approve of. Each and every time, Sheldon was always more than happy to lend a helping hand. It didn't matter _why_ he was helping her—his motivation was obvious!—the fact remained that he _did_ help her, and asked nothing in return; nothing but her friendship.

And even then, she now realized, she'd never given him much of that…

For the first time, Jenny began to realize that she'd never really been much of a friend to Sheldon; she just never tried very hard or made much of an effort. True, part of that was because his own omnipresence made that very difficult: it often seemed he was constantly around her _all_ the time, never giving her a chance to collect her thoughts. But still…all those times when he'd been kind and supportive to her when she needed kindness and support, all the times he'd helped her and assisted her whenever he could, she _could_ have at least shown him some gratitude and appreciation in return, she now realized. And yet…she never did…

And, lastly, she couldn't help but recall that one Christmas, after that Todd Sweeney kid had taken over and controlled her mind, and forced her to ruin all the Holidays of the year. She shuddered as she recalled the nightmarish incident. Everyone—_everyone_ in Tremorton, including her own creator!—had believed that Jenny had gone rogue and they all hated and feared her as a result. Everyone, that is, except Sheldon. He alone never lost faith in her. He alone continued to believe in her and had helped her, even when everyone else in town had turned against her. That, she now realized, was the truest test of his character that she ever could have hoped for.

So there were many times when Sheldon had been kind to her and helped her, in addition to his efforts in this latest incident at the secret agency compound. And how had she thanked him for that? For his bravery in risking his own life, fighting to defend her? _By losing her temper, turning on him and firing her laser-cannons at him!_

_Crikey!_ She thought, horrified. _Some friend __I__ am! No wonder he's afraid to come near me!_

The more Jenny thought about it, the more guilty she felt about her actions that fateful day. Now that her anger and resentment had a chance to subside, they were replaced by growing feelings of remorse and shame. Here she was, so strong, so powerful, with her ability to fly, and all her built-in weapons and other capabilities, and there he was, so small, so helpless and so utterly defenseless against her. For the first time, Jenny began to realize just how terrifying it must have been for Sheldon, to see someone he always thought of as his best and most trusted friend suddenly turn on him, unleashing the full destructive fury of her powers against him, and she began to truly hate herself for what she'd done.

She shuddered as the full magnitude of her actions began to dawn on her, and she felt a terrible hollowness growing inside of her, as though all of her insides had begun rapidly rusting away. Her eyes welled with tears, and she clutched her pillow even tighter, curling up into a tight little ball on her bed…

_What have I done…?_ She thought as she wept. _What have I done…?_

* * *

End Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4--At the Edge of the Chasm

_Author's Note: First off, another great big huge huggy-bunch thank-you to all the readers who continue to follow my story, especially those who've left some very-encouraging comments! I sincerely do appreciate it._

_Now, t__he question has been raised as to whether Jenny's portrayal in this story is out-of-character. As this is a valid point, I felt it should be addressed. The truth is, in my opinion, her behavior at the conclusion of the episode that inspired this story ("Agent 00-Sheldon") was OOC for her. In fact, it was precisely my dissatisfaction with her behavior in that episode which inspired this story in the first place: To address that rather disturbing development of her character and to resolve it in my own way. This story was the result. Also, as I think most readers have probably caught on by now: This is going to be a pretty long story by the time it reaches its conclusion! As such, it's going to take a while for certain events to transpire; they're not going to happen all at once, as in an 11-minute cartoon. So, please be patient, dear readers; let the story unfold in its own way at its own pace and all will come together one way or the other by its conclusion, I promise you._

_This chapter, as you shall read, represents a major turning-point in our little saga. Enjoi!_

_-Shvique_

* * *

**Resolution**

A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic

By Shvique

**Chapter 4—At the Edge of the Chasm**

The robot XJ-9 surveyed the charred, smoldering landscape that lay before her, her eyes widened with horror at the devastation. Bodies torn, bloodied, battered and burned beyond recognition, all of them human.

_What happened here?!_ She wondered._ What on earth __happened__ here?!_

"Hello?" She called out as loudly as she could, then paused, waiting—hoping—for a reply. "Hello? Can anyone hear me? Anyone?"

Silence. Dead silence.

"_HELLO?!"_ she cried louder, and waited.

More silence.

It was only then that she looked down and noticed…that where her right hand normally would have been, was an enormous plasma-cannon that her forearm had transformed into. _What am I doing with __this__ out?_ She wondered._ I never use this unless it's a last-resort emergency!_

She touched the barrel of the fierce-looking weapon, and noticed that it was _hot; __very _hot. She checked its energy-levels, and found that they were depleted to nearly 20%. Obviously, the weapon had been recently-fired, and fired a lot.

She transformed her forearm back into its normal hand configuration, then blasted off from the ground, her rocket-jets carrying her high above the devastated landscape as she searched for signs of life.

"_HELLO__? __HELLO__?"_ she called out hopefully as she flew.

City-block after city-block she flew, mile after mile, in search of survivors, of any signs of life. But there were none; only death and destruction lay strewn on the ground below her. There was nothing else; nothing.

She was alone.

After flying a radius of several miles searching without success for signs of life, she set down gently on the ground again.

_She was alone!_ The thought chilled her servo fluids.

_What __happened__ here?_ She asked herself again.

The lifeless silence was then broken by a piercing, slicing sound as an interdimensional portal opened in the quiet, smoke-filled sky. XJ-9 looked up, grateful to hear any sound, any break from the deafening silence. For a brief moment, she even hoped to see a friendly face emerge from the portal, but her hopes were quickly dashed. For there appeared instead the face of her most despised enemy, the evil Queen Vexus.

Vexus glided down from the portal, which closed behind her, gradually descending on her antigrav platform. She surveyed the devastated landscape with glee. "Well, well, my dear, I must say, well done! Very well done indeed!" she laughed evilly.

"Vexus!" XJ-9 snarled. "I should have known! I should have known you'd be responsible for this!" She rocketed toward her hated enemy, but Vexus dodged easily aside.

"Why no, my dear, not I. Not I. I assure you, I had nothing to do with this. I've only just arrived, you see. No, this is not my work, although I must say, I couldn't have done a better job myself! You've achieved greater, more impressive results than I ever could have imagined!" she chuckled. "Truly, child, I am impressed with you! Impressed and proud!"

XJ-9 stared at Vexus, completely baffled. _"What are you talking about?!"_

"Why, my child, there's no reason to be modest. I told you: This is a _wonderful_ job you've done here! Wonderful! And I am well and truly impressed! I always knew you had it within you! Just as I knew you were destined to one day join with us!"

XJ-9 shook her head. "Have you got a screw loose or something?" she cried. "What are you _talking_ about?" In an instant, she transformed her hand back into a plasma-cannon and pointed it directly at Vexus' head. "Look, you better give me some answers, and I mean _fast!"_ She armed her weapon.

But, far from showing the slightest trace of fear, Vexus merely smiled. "Why…my dear, I'm talking about your marvelous achievement here! Your first major, decisive victory against the flesh-wearers!" She waved her hand in a wide, sweeping arc, as though inviting XJ-9 to take in the charred landscape below as though it were a sight of immense beauty. "Isn't it wonderful, my dear? This magnificent scene of utter, complete devastation? I salute you, my dear! You've struck your first major blow against the meat-people and taken the first step to fulfilling your destiny to conquer this puny planet for your fellow robots! And I say to you again, my child: Well done! _Well done!"_ Vexus cackled evilly.

XJ-9 stared at Vexus. She always knew Vexus was evil; but had Vexus also gone completely insane as well? _What was she talking about? _

Vexus' expression softened then, almost approaching one of sorrow. "You mean… You mean, you don't _remember…?"_ she paused. "Oh, my poor child…you really _don't_ remember…do you…?" She shook her head sadly. "What a shame… Your moment of triumph over the flesh-wearers, and you don't remember any of it. How sad…"

At last, XJ-9 realized what Vexus was driving at. "Oh, now wait a minute! Wait a minute!" she cried, backing off slightly. "Are you trying to say that _I…?_ That _I…_ did this?! That _I'm_ responsible?!"

Vexus merely smiled evilly.

"You _are_ crazy!" XJ-9 exclaimed. "I always knew you were evil, but I never realized you were _crazy!"_ For one brief—and very-rare—moment, XJ-9 truly felt in fear of Vexus. For she knew that a crazed Vexus could potentially be far more dangerous than a sane one.

"Look again, my child." Vexus said, invitingly, again sweeping the landscape below with her hand. "Look again, _closely."_

XJ-9 surveyed the scene once more, hesitantly, for she certainly didn't trust Vexus enough to take her eyes off her most dangerous enemy for even so much as a nanosecond, nor could she bear to scrutinize the brutal carnage too closely, for fear of what she may find.

"Look at the wrecked buildings, the dead carcasses of the flesh-wearers." Vexus went on. "Notice anything? Look at the blast-points. Look at the spent energy-casings scattered everywhere. Look at the fracture-points on the joints and beams of what's left of the buildings. Take some readings on the energy-tracings. Study the burn-patterns on what's left of the carcasses." She paused, waiting as XJ-9 retracted her plasma-cannon back into her arm, and produced the necessary instruments to take the requested readings.

"Now perform an analysis and draw a conclusion." Vexus went on. "Report on the weapons responsible for this. Go on. Take as much time as you need. I can wait. Believe me, child, there is no one here to complain." Her smile broadened into a chilling, toothy grimace.

Again, XJ-9 did as she'd been prompted. She performed the analysis based on the readings she'd found. The process took only a few nanoseconds, and when complete, the results shook her to the core. "No!" she cried, drifting backwards. "No, it _can't_ be! It _can't_ be!"

"Ah, but it _can,_ my dear!"

"No! No, you're just trying to confuse me! This is all a trick! It _has_ to be!"

"Why, my dear, how could I ever possibly trick you? After all, you saw the evidence with your own sensors. You analyzed it yourself and drew your own conclusions. And the evidence and your own conclusions don't lie, my dear!"

"_No! No!"_ Jenny continued to drift back and away from Vexus, down towards the earth. She shook her head as she cried, "It _can't_ be! _It can't be! I could never…! I could never…!"_

For she knew…she knew that the evidence she saw with her own sensors, the analysis she performed with her own logic-circuits and memory-banks…led to only one possible conclusion…

That all the death, destruction and devastation that she witnessed all around her…with nothing left alive but herself and Vexus….

…was caused by her own weapons. Her own, uniquely-designed, one-of-a-kind set of weapons, especially customized, fitted and programmed to operate only in conjunction with her own operating-system and no other.

As inconceivable, as impossible as it was to believe, the evidence didn't lie. Vexus was correct in that regard. And that meant that she was correct in another respect as well:

That XJ-9, the earth's Global Response Unit, the robot known as "Jenny" to her friends and loved-ones, the defender of the earth and the protector of mankind…

…had now become the destroyer of mankind.

The full implications of the conclusion struck XJ-9 like a concussion-shell blast to her midsection. _It can't be! It can't be!_ She silently repeated to herself, like a mantra, as though the repetition would somehow eradicate the truth of the evidence and what her own sensors revealed to her with growing clarity. She forced herself to look around her, at the torn and bloodied bodies of the humans she had once known as her friends. She couldn't bear the terrible sight, shutting her eyes and turning away in horror.

"You see, my child," Vexus went on. "When I had heard of your decision to turn against the meat people, I dropped everything and rushed over here to your world just as quickly as I could. I said to myself, 'XJ-9 finally coming to her senses and turning against the flesh-wearers? _This_ I must see for myself!'"

XJ-9 turned to Vexus, her eyes now welling with tears and continued to shake her head slowly. "No….no…" she whimpered, now utterly defeated, unable to muster the will to do anything else.

"But when I arrived here, I was too late." Vexus continued. "You had already finished, I see. And, as I said, you have performed splendidly! So, once again, my child, I salute you! This is a glorious victory for us all, but especially for you! For now _you really truly are one of us!"_

XJ-9's eyes opened wide in horror at the last statement. "No!" she cried. "I'm _not_ one of you! And I'll _never_ be one of you, either!"

"Ah, but you already _are,_ my dear! You already _are!_ Even if you don't realize it yet! You see, you took the first crucial steps to join with us long ago! Don't you remember…?"

XJ-9 shook her head, bewildered, and stared blankly at Vexus, struggling to grasp her meaning. _Now__ what is she talking about?_ She wondered.

"Ah well, it doesn't matter…" Vexus went on. "It was merely one pitiful, insignificant human. They are all equally worthless, after all. I'm not surprised you don't remember it." When she saw that XJ-9 still could not recall the incident to which she referred, she elaborated. "But if you must know, it was that silly, foolish boy who proved himself so useful to me in obtaining the plans of your design. _Now_ do you remember…?"

XJ-9's eyes opened wide as she finally realized who and what Vexus was referring to. "Oh, you don't mean…! You _can't_ mean…! How…how could you _possibly_ know about _that…?_ How could you _possibly_ have heard about—" She couldn't go on.

"Oh, but I _do_ know, my child; I _do_ know! I've studied your activities and behavior quite closely through the years, as you are, so to speak, my 'special project!' And even though that silly boy was only a human, of no consequence to anyone, your treatment of him represented a critical first step; a small, but significant victory for us. Because you see, my dear," she paused for maximum dramatic effect, her smile broadening to a wide, chillingly-toothy grin. "The day you turned your weapons against that boy was the day you made the momentous decision to put aside your foolish devotion to the flesh-wearers, and instead use your natural, superior powers against them! _In that moment, you turned against a human! A weak, inferior human!_ A member of that lowly species that you foolishly believed you were supposed to protect, that you foolishly believed to be your friends! _You turned against him and used your powers against him!"_ Vexus cackled malevolently. "That was a significant line you had crossed, my dear; one that could never be retraced. From that point on, there could be no going back for you. Once you had done that, I knew I had you! I knew that my ultimate victory over you was only a matter of time!"

"No…! No…! You're _lying…!"_ XJ-9 shook her head. "You can't _possibly_ know about that! You couldn't _possibly_ have heard about it! About…about…"

"About you turning against your _human_ friend?" Vexus smirked, placing a contemptuous emphasis on the word 'human.' "Oh, but I _did_ hear about it, my child; I _did!_ And oh, if you only knew how delighted I was to hear about it! _'A child after my own heart!'_ I thought. And now, as I see," Vexus again surveyed the devastated landscape. "I know that I was right! After all, my dear," she turned to face XJ-9 directly. "The cruel betrayal of a friend is perhaps one of the most delightfully evil acts one could commit, don't you agree?" She cackled. "Your only mistake was in not finishing off that silly creature right then and there when you had the chance! But…that was merely inexperience, my child. You shall learn…in time. You shall soon learn to have no pity for the flesh-wearers. As they are inferior, they are unworthy of your care or concern. But of course, you must already know this…don't you? That's why you felt no remorse when you attacked your silly friend! Isn't that so, my dear?"

XJ-9 clutched the sides of her head and shut her eyes tightly, as though to shut out Vexus' relentless words. "No…! No…! It's not true…!" Jenny cried.

"Yes, my child, yes! And it came so easily to you, my dear, didn't it!" Vexus went on, relishing her adversary's torment. "So easily! And once you had taken that first step, I knew it would only become easier for you in time. And it did, didn't it! Each time you gave in to the temptation to use your superior power against the flesh-wearers, it became easier and easier for you! Didn't it! Easier and easier for you to justify and rationalize your actions! And each time, your silly, foolish, hypocritical conscience troubled you less and less! Isn't that so, my dear? Isn't that so…?" Vexus chuckled evilly.

Jenny shook her head violently, _"No, no, no!" _she cried. "It's not true…! It's not true…! I've never…! I've never…!"

But XJ-9's denials had no effect on Vexus. She continued twisting the knife in with relish. "Now, now, you needn't be ashamed of it, my dear. After all, you _are_ superior to the meat-people. We all are. So it's only proper and natural that we exert our natural superiority over them. After all, _we_ are the next evolutionary stage in the natural order of the universe! The flesh-wearers are destined for extinction and shall be destroyed in due course, and _we_ shall take their place! And this is as it should be!" Her chilling grin broadened and she moved closer to XJ-9, as though to confide a close secret.

"So tell me, my dear, how did it _feel?" _Her voice was now much softer, almost mockingly comforting in tone. "Did it feel _good_ to flex your power against the silly human boy? To fire your weapons and watch him run from you in sheer, stark terror? And to know that he couldn't escape? Did you _enjoy_ it? Did you make him cry out in pain…?" She paused, then with a smirk, she whispered, "Did you make him…_scream…?"_

XJ-9 cried out, _"No, no! It's not true! It's not true! I've __never__ hurt anyone! Never! I've __never__ hurt any human!"_ Yet, even as she screamed this, she knew it was a lie. She _had_ used her powers against a human, and more than once.

"He did scream, didn't he, that silly creature!" Vexus went on, emphasizing the torment of her words. "And you did enjoy it, didn't you! _Didn't you!" _Vexus cackled. "Now you see, my dear! Now you know! When you took that first step and turned against your silly human friend, you'd moved that much closer to joining us. Already you were beginning to think like us and act like us! To become one with us!"

"_NO! NO! NO!" _XJ-9 screamed louder, over and over again, as though to drive Vexus' words away by sheer volume and force of will. _"I'm NOT like you! I'm NOT! I'll NEVER be one of you! Never!" _Her voice grew in volume and intensity._ "I'M THE DEFENDER OF HUMANS! I'M NOT THEIR ENEMY!"_

"Ah, but you _are_ their enemy, child! You _are!_ We _all_ are!" Vexus smiled and drew closer. "Look again! All around you! See for yourself! You see?" Again, she swept her arm wide over the expanse of devastation. _"You_ turned your weapons against the humans! _You_ did! On your own! That was _your_ decision, child, not mine! I couldn't have made you do it. _You did it all on your own!_ You should be proud of yourself, my dear! As am I! For _you are now one of us! You have joined us! You have joined us! I have WON! __I have WON__!"_ At this, Vexus threw her head back and roared with triumphant laughter.

"_NO, NO, NO, NO! I'll NEVER_ _join with you! Never! I'm NOT one of you! I'll NEVER be one of you! Never, never!" _XJ-9 screamed, shaking her head madly, as though to drive out the Truth that lay before her.

"_XJ-9! XJ-9! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"_ Dr. Wakeman cried out to her robotic daughter.

"_I'll NEVER join with you! Never! Never! Never!" _Jenny continued to scream in the delirium of her nightmare, her arms thrashing and flailing about.

"_XJ-9! XJ-9! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"_ Dr. Wakeman continued to cry out.

At last, Jenny sat bolt upright in bed, and her eyes snapped wide open in terror. She looked around herself in a daze, forcing her eyes to focus. "W—where am I? What happened?!"

Dr. Wakeman gasped for breath, and said, "You—" she swallowed hard. "You were having another nightmare. And, from the sounds of it, a particularly _nasty_ one!"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," Jenny replied, burying her face in her hands. She was silent for several minutes before she spoke. "Oh, mom…! What's _happening_ to me? These _dreams!_ These terrible, terrible _dreams!_ I've _never_ had dreams like this before! _Never!_ And this last one was the worst yet!" She looked up at her creator, her eyes registering a deep fear that Dr. Wakeman had never seen in her daughter before. "Mom…what's _wrong_ with me? Is the dream-circuit malfunctioning? Or am I…? Am I…?" she hesitated. "Mom…am I…losing my _mind…?"_ She whispered.

Neither one wanted to even consider the possibility. Because they both knew—they _knew—_that if there were even the slightest possibility of Jenny becoming unstable in any way, then there was only one option possible: Deactivation and dismantlement.

Neither of them even wanted to think about it.

Dr. Wakeman slowly drew a deep breath, held it for several moments, then said, as softly and matter-of-factly as she could manage, "I—I don't know what's going on, but…there's only one way to find out what the trouble is, and that is to do a complete, comprehensive diagnostic! Right now! Come on! Down to the lab, young lady!"

"But you just did a diagnostic on me the other day and you didn't find anything!"

"That was only a quick systems-check, not a comprehensive diagnostic. And even then, I _did_ find some irregularities, although they seemed relatively minor at the time. The situation may have changed since then. After all, these…bad dreams seem to be getting worse and worse all the time." Dr. Wakeman paused. "Obviously, there must be a reason for them, and it's possible—likely, even—that the reason may be an indicator of a serious problem involved. Either way, I've got to know what that reason is, so that I can—hopefully—correct the problem."

As always, it was hard—if not impossible—for Jenny to argue with her creator's logic. "All right." She sighed, resignedly. She threw off the blankets, swung her legs over the side of the bed and headed downstairs, followed by Dr. Wakeman.

* * *

Jenny sat on the examination-table in the basement laboratory, as Dr. Wakeman completed the last of the tests and disconnected the leads and electrodes from the various points of Jenny's body, and from the data-ports at the back of her head.

"Well Mom, what's the verdict? Am I officially losing my marbles or what?" She forced a weak smile, as though humor might somehow dispel the bad news they both feared might be coming.

But Dr. Wakeman remained grim-faced as she studied the readings of the various instruments, then entered the command to print out hard-copies of the results. She picked up the pages as they printed out, one by one, and studied them narrowly, the frown on her face deepening by the minute.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke. "Well," she began. "The dream-circuit checks out perfectly; there's nothing wrong with it. So we can rule that out as a causal factor, at least. Other than that, however, there's nothing conclusive." She paused, studying the pages. "These readings are very, very strange; highly erratic and well outside normal parameters. They're even more erratic than they were the other day, in fact. I can't tell for sure…but…" she scanned several pages of the printout in quick succession. "It appears…that your emotional sub-programs are experiencing some sort of imbalance, as though some random factor or variable is affecting them and throwing them off in a kind of cascade effect."

"Do you think it's a virus?" Jenny asked, hopefully. _If it's something that simple,_ she thought, _then maybe it can be easily fixed!_ "Like when I got infected with that bug from Queen Vexus? After all, that affected my emotions, too…along with some other things."

"No, it doesn't look like a virus," was her creator's reply. "It looks more like an internal conflict of some kind; like a computer program trying to solve an irrational problem." She shook her head and sighed. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure precisely what's going on here. This is going to take some time to fully analyze. But…" she narrowly scrutinized one portion of the report, then flipped back and forth between different pages, comparing readings. "If I had to hazard a guess, based on what I see here…it appears that…as I suspected…the trouble seems to be rooted in some sort of conflict originating in your conscience program."

"Oh, _that_ thing again!" Jenny snorted in annoyance.

"Yes, _that_ again! And—_don't give me that look!"_ Dr. Wakeman exclaimed when she caught her daughter's expression. "We've been through this before! Now, as I said, the problem appears to be a conflict originating in the conscience program and from there, it seems to be throwing everything else off, in one big chain-reaction—"

"I don't know why you don't just take that stupid thing out!" Jenny sulked. "It's nothing but a pain in the posterior power-unit!"

"XJ-9, I _can't!"_ Dr. Wakeman exclaimed, throwing down the report on the desk. "I _can't_ simply take it out! It's impossible! Part of the code for the program is deeply embedded in your main operating system, and part of it is also encoded in a microcircuit deep within your positronic brain. Trying to remove even a part of the program could cause irreparable damage. That's why I designed it that way: So that it could _never_ be removed or tampered with. By _anyone._ And even if I _could_ remove it_,_ I _wouldn't!_ Don't you see…?"

Jenny sighed impatiently, and turned her face to the wall. She'd _heard_ this so many times before.

Dr. Wakeman noticed Jenny's reaction, and she softened her tone. "XJ-9," she went on. "Please listen to me. Please try to understand. As I've already explained to you many times, your conscience program is the most important asset you have. It's the whole reason you were built. It serves a very important function. You see, when I originally designed and built Armagedroid many years ago, I had the highest hopes for him, but he eventually proved to be my biggest failure. He was also one of the biggest and most costly failures in the entire history of science and technology, not only in terms of the dollars, raw-materials and man-hours required to build him, but also costly in terms of human life when he turned rogue. He was a failure because I had made a critical mistake in his design: I had neglected to build him with any kind of internal control or behavioral inhibitor, something that would modify and control his actions if he started to behave improperly or for those situations where the use of his massive power was…morally questionable. He needed a conscience essentially, and building him without one was a huge and costly mistake that nearly destroyed us all; one that nearly ruined my career and reputation, and I swore I would never repeat it."

Dr. Wakeman fell silent, and Jenny slowly turned to face her. Now, her creator had her full and complete attention.

Dr. Wakeman drew a deep breath and continued. "After that…I vowed that I would never again build a robot without a conscience of some kind, no matter how technically difficult or challenging that might be to accomplish. And it _was_ difficult, make no mistake about that! It took me years to finally lick the problem, and years more before I gradually refined it and eventually perfected it and made it practical. That was the purpose of the entire XJ program, in fact: To test out my theory that the development of a conscience could be replicated in artificial intelligence through simulation of the different stages of normal human development from early infancy through to young adulthood. You see XJ-9, the critical early stages of human development—childhood—are absolutely essential in the normal, healthy formation of a person's conscience. I thought if I could somehow re-create that development process artificially in an android—or a series of androids, as the case may be—it might achieve the results I wanted."

Jenny was somewhat surprised at this. "I guess I always assumed the purpose of building my sisters and me was to develop new AI architecture, new hardware designs, new weapons and things like that.'"

Dr. Wakeman hesitated. "Well…no, not really. The main objective I was after was the development of an artificial conscience, not AI or hardware. Developing new AI architecture was tricky, but not an especially difficult problem; nothing insurmountable. And developing new hardware and new weapons and such was downright easy; so easy, in fact, it almost felt like an afterthought; 'icing on the cake,' so to speak. 'Killing two birds with one stone.' 'Covering all bases'—"

"All right, Mother; I get the point!" Jenny interrupted.

"At any rate," Dr. Wakeman struggled to regain her train of thought. "In building and studying the XJs, the results I obtained provided useful data, which I revised, modified, refined and eventually incorporated into your own design. The XJs were necessary middle steps, you see, in the development of _you."_ At this, Dr. Wakeman smiled, obvious pride evident on her face. "So in a sense, you carry around a little bit of each of your sisters within you. For example, you have a little bit of XJ-5's friendly, gregarious personality, some of her upbeat and quirky sense of humor—though not quite her level of garrulousness. And you have a little bit of XJ-6's sensitivity and heightened self-awareness—though you're not _hypersensitive,_ the way she is."

Jenny smiled at this, in spite of the seriousness of the overall discussion.

Dr. Wakeman noticed this and smiled herself as well. "Yes…well, I _did_ go a bit overboard on both XJ-5 and 6. Anyway, you also have some of XJ-8's strength and power of course, as well as her fearlessness and her ability to make quick, clear-headed decisions in a crisis and take decisive action. And…so on." She chuckled. "You even went through an XJ-1 'infant stage' for awhile, although you don't remember it!"

_And I'm glad I don't!_ Jenny thought.

_Although I wish you had retained some of XJ-4's tidiness streak!_ Dr. Wakeman thought, idly.

"Anyway, all these developmental stages in the XJs were the essential building-blocks in later helping you to form an empathic bond with human beings," she went on. "Helping you to relate to them and to think of yourself as a human yourself. And that's essential for the development of a conscience: The ability to relate to and empathize with others."

"But what about XJ-7?" Jenny said, trying to shift the subject away from that of the conscience program. "What about her? I'm not mopey and sulky like she is. And why would anyone want a mopey robot anyway?"

"Well…that 'mopiness,' as you call it, those feelings of low self-worth and low self-esteem only arise in you when the conscience program becomes activated. At least, that's how it's _supposed_ to work. The theory is, when you've done something really, really wrong and you know it, then you start to feel bad about yourself, rather like the way XJ-7 feels _all_ the time. At least…that's the theory, anyway."

"But I don't feel 'mopey,' or sulky," Jenny pointed out. "I mean, if the conscience program is the cause of all these problems, and it's supposed to make me feel mopey and sulky, then why don't I feel like that now? I mean," She hastened to add, "assuming I had anything on my conscience to begin with, that is." Even as she said this however, she couldn't help but recall the feelings of guilt, remorse and self-hatred she'd experienced the night before, just before bedtime.

"Well…perhaps…" Dr. Wakeman paused, thinking. "Now, this is just a guess on my part—but perhaps the low self-esteem that was supposed to activate is being blocked somehow."

"Blocked? By what?"

"Well, for a long while anyway, perhaps it was blocked by your anger," Dr. Wakeman suggested. "After all, you _were_ pretty angry that day you came back from the secret-agent compound."_ And you've been rather irritable ever since!_ She thought, though she didn't speak aloud.

"So it's possible that the anger you felt was blocking the feelings of low self-esteem that normally would have become activated by now." She went on. "And…it's possible that you may be…unconsciously blocking it in other ways as well; ways that neither of us are even aware of. If so, that could be what's causing the internal conflict I spoke of earlier. Conflict within the conscience program that couldn't be resolved when you're awake, is instead somehow resurfacing during sleep mode and manifesting itself in these strange dreams you've been having. I honestly don't know if that's the answer; as I said, it's all just guesswork at this point. And as I also said, theoretically, none of this should even be happening in the first place. But for the time being anyway, it seems a reasonable working hypothesis: Internal conflict as a result of conscious and unconscious anger blocking and repressing proper activation and function of the conscience program."

It made sense to Jenny; _perfect_ sense, although she didn't want to admit it. So she shifted the focus of the discussion with her next question. "But there's still one thing I don't understand. You once told me that my sisters were all 'failed experiments,' and that's why you kept them de-activated in the basement. If you got useful data from them, why do you consider them failures?"

"Failures, failures…" Dr. Wakeman replied as she leaned back in her chair, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "Well…the truth is, even though I was able to obtain useful data from building and studying them, I nevertheless considered them failures because none of them was ever able to grow and develop beyond a certain emotional level. Take XJ-1, for instance. She'll always remain at the level of an infant, essentially. No matter how much time passes, she'll always remain an infant, forever. And the others…well, the others have similar…limitations." She shook her head sadly.

For some reason, Jenny couldn't help but feel sorry for her sisters as she considered this.

"But it's not like that with you," Dr. Wakeman went on, her tone brightening. "You're not like the others. Even though you've been designed as a teenager, you nevertheless have the ability to grow and develop and mature emotionally over time. And that's essential. That was the big breakthrough with you. The ability to grow and develop, to relate to others, to learn from one's mistakes—especially in interpersonal relationships—and to develop empathy and compassion for others, are all essential components in the formation of what we mean by the term 'conscience.'"

Dr. Wakeman beamed widely now, and there was no disguising the pride she felt for her robotic daughter. Jenny listened with rapt attention.

"So you see, XJ-9, you're my greatest success, my greatest triumph." Dr. Wakeman continued. "And it's not just because of your physical power or the sophistication of your technical design. It's not because of all your advanced weaponry or the countless other technological innovations that I created to build you. It's the fact that you were the first robot I ever made in which I successfully created an actual working conscience; a moral sense of right and wrong."

Slowly, Jenny's eyebrows raised, and her facial expression softened as she listened.

"That's why I never made an XJ-10. I thought it was unnecessary. Superfluous, in fact, like re-inventing the wheel. I considered you such a complete success, such a major breakthrough, that I decided to halt further work on the XJ series. When I saw that you could not only recognize and learn from your mistakes, but also take responsibility for them; when you showed a strong desire to go out and interact with people; when you showed signs of genuine empathy and compassion for them, _and especially when you named yourself, thereby identifying yourself as a person…_then I knew I had succeeded. I said to myself, 'My work here is finished! This is the one! This is the robot that can be trusted with the tremendous power and great responsibility of protecting us all."

At these words, Jenny felt a certain sense of pride…along with a considerable degree of guilt.

"Even your drive to defend and protect others from danger stems largely from your conscience program," Dr. Wakeman went on. "Part of it is your basic mission programming, of course; but a large part of it is also a function of your conscience program."

"Really…?" Jenny whispered. "I always assumed it was only my mission program; you know, that I was 'just doing my job', that I didn't have any real choice in the matter."

Dr. Wakeman leaned back thoughtfully before she replied, "Well, think about it. Think about those occasions when your friends were in danger. Or when you thought _I_ was in danger. Those occasions when you had to rescue your friends Brad or Tuck, for instance. Didn't you experience an entirely different emotional reaction deep within you than you did when you had to, say, go into outer-space to destroy a meteor, for example? In the latter case, you were simply doing a job, a chore, performing a duty, correct? But when it came to protecting your friends or myself, then it was a different matter. Then it became something _personal_ for you, something you felt deep inside you. Isn't that correct?"

Jenny paused thoughtfully as she considered this, recalling all the times she had come to Brad's—and particularly, Tuck's—rescue, as well as how she'd reacted—even _over-_reacted—when she thought her creator was in danger. "Yes, that's true." She nodded. "I guess I never really thought about it that deeply before. But you're right! I _do_ feel different when I rescue my friends, or even total strangers, than I do when I'm busting up a space-rock or something."

"So you see," Dr. Wakeman went on, smiling. "That special feeling you get from deep inside you when you come to your friends' rescue is largely a function of your conscience program. Likewise, if your conscience program is now responsible for all these problems you're experiencing, these bad dreams and so on, that means it's performing its function as well. It's doing what it was designed to do." She smiled, weakly. "It's 'doing its job,' so to speak, telling you that, right now, _something is wrong." _

"I don't see how, though." Jenny said, as she shifted uncomfortably on the exam-table. "I mean, what does the conscience program have to do with these weird dreams I'm having? What's the connection?"

"Well, as I said, the results of these tests aren't 100% conclusive, but…comparing some of these readings…" she picked up the printout again, and flipped through to the pages in question, examining them closely. "It appears that the conscience program is trying to resolve an insoluble conflict of some kind, and is unable to do so. Like the example I spoke of earlier, it's like a computer program trying to solve an irrational problem. And as a result, it's essentially dumping the unresolved bits of data—the 'junk,' so to speak—and loading them into the inputs of the dream-circuit in what appears to be some strange kind of feedback-loop, which in turn is resulting in these…these _nightmares_ you've been having." Dr. Wakeman fell silent, as she studied the diagnostic report. "Fascinating… Absolutely fascinating…" she muttered as she scrutinized the results. "At any rate…" she said at length. "If that is in fact the cause of the problem, then if we can somehow resolve this conflict in the conscience program—whatever it is—the nightmares should then hopefully go away."

"Well, if you can't take out the conscience program, couldn't you just take out the dream-circuit instead?" Jenny suggested. "I mean, _pleasant_ dreams are nice to have, but they're not absolutely necessary; it's not like I really _need_ them all that much. I'd just as soon _not_ dream at all anymore than have these…_nightmares."_

"Well, yes, I suppose I could do that," Dr. Wakeman replied. "And while that might seem to be an adequate 'quick fix' solution, it wouldn't really address or solve the underlying problem. Whatever it is that's causing this internal conflict _is_ the real problem here, let's not forget. Taking out the dream-chip won't make that internal conflict—or the reason for it—go away."

She paused, waiting, hoping that her daughter would feel encouraged to finally speak openly about what had obviously been troubling her for several days. But instead, Jenny merely lowered her gaze, staring intently at the floor, frowning, as though privately at war with something deep within her.

"So…why don't you tell me what this is really all about…?" Dr. Wakeman said gently. "Whatever it is that's really on your mind…? You've been wanting to for days now. I can tell. And, as I said before: you know you can tell your mother _anything…"_

Jenny shut her eyes tightly and remained silent for several long moments. Then softly…silently…she began to weep. Dr. Wakeman placed the report onto a nearby table, walked over and placed her arms around her daughter, cradling her tenderly. Jenny returned the embrace, burying her face in the folds of her mom's lab-coat.

"There, there, XJ-9…" Dr. Wakeman said tenderly, as she gently cradled her robotic daughter in her arms like a small child. "There, there… I'm here….talk to me…"

But Jenny couldn't even speak; all she could do was continue to silently weep.

"You know, XJ-9…" Dr. Wakeman said softly. "I—I haven't seen you cry like this since you were just a little prototype," She smiled, comfortingly. "Now…come on…. Tell Mom what's troubling you. You know you want to… Tell me; Mom will understand…"

Jenny sobbed, looked up at her creator's face, and wailed, breaking out in open tears. "Oh, Mom, I was_ horrible_ to him! _Horrible!"_ she cried. "He's always been so kind to me! He's always been there for me whenever I needed him…and sometimes even when I didn't! He believed in me even when everyone else turned against me! Even when Brad and Tuck…and even _you_ turned against me, he still had faith in me, no matter what!" She sobbed loudly. "And I was _horrible_ to him, just _horrible!_ Oh, Mom!" she wailed, clutching her mom tightly, until it felt to Dr. Wakeman as though her bones would break. "I'm so _ashamed!"_

"_Easy, XJ-9, EASY!"_ Dr. Wakeman gasped. _"Too tight! Too tight!"_

"Oops! Sorry, mom!" Jenny immediately slackened her grip, and looked at her creator directly. "Oh, but you see? You _see,_ Mom? I'm _always_ doing things like that! _Always!_ I'm _constantly_ hurting the people who care about me! And I don't mean to! But…! Ohhhhh, what's the _use?!_ Why was I ever built?! What _good_ am I anyway?! What _good_ am I?!" She clutched her creator tightly again, crying uncontrollably.

All Dr. Wakeman could do was gently pat her daughter's back, trying in vain to comfort her.

* * *

End Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5--Confession and Contrition

_Author's Note: Thanks again to all the loyal readers who continue to follow my little(?) tale &amp; post comments; I sincerely appreciate it from the bottom of my heart! Thank you one and all! _

_'Confession is good for the soul,' it is said; but does that apply to positronic-based souls as well? Read on and find out...!_

-Shvique

* * *

**Resolution  
**A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic  
By Shvique

**Chapter 5—Confession and Contrition**

Dr. Wakeman sat at the desk in her study, speaking on the telephone to Vice-Principal Razinski. "Yes…yes, I understand, Mr. Razinski, but you see… Well, it's a…it's a bit of a 'family crisis'…" She paused, listening. "No, no, it's nothing like that. It's…well…I…I'd rather not go into it over the phone. It's a rather sensitive, private family matter." She paused. "Yes. Yes, I know." She paused again. "Yes, I _am_ concerned about my daughter's scholastic progress, that's why I'm—" she took a breath, trying to remain patient. "Yes…yes, I _know._ But…look, I think you'll agree, I'm not generally one to make excuses for my daughter's behavior. And I wouldn't be calling now if I didn't think it was important. And I'm not asking to excuse her for the entire day; just a few hours out of the morning, that's all. She'll be in a little bit later." She paused. "How much later? Um…" she glanced at the clock. "Around 11 O'clock or so, I should think. Yes. All right. Thank you. Thank you very much. Good bye." She hung up the phone, sighing. She knew the vice-principal could be a stickler for discipline, regular attendance and punctuality and everything else that went along with it, and normally she could respect that; yet there were times such as this when dealing with the man could be a trial…

She left her study, and entered the kitchen, where she turned to face her daughter, now much calmer and seated at the table, head down, her face buried in her folded arms.

"It's all right," Dr. Wakeman said. "I explained everything to Vice-Principal Razinski and got you most of the morning off. You just need to be in there by 11:00 and everything should be fine."

"How much did you tell him?" Jenny asked, in a tiny, muffled voice, not looking up.

"Well, I didn't go into details," Dr. Wakeman replied. "I just said that we were dealing with a private family matter, and that we needed some time to…resolve it. That's all."

Jenny remained silent. _This is all so embarrassing! _she thought._ So humiliating!_ _This is just great! By Monday I suppose it'll be all over school that Jenny Wakeman, the mechanical freak, is the only kid in the history of Tremorton High to be excused from classes because of bad dreams! Cripes, I'll never hear the end of it…!_

"Now then," Dr. Wakeman said softly, sitting down at the table opposite her daughter, setting down a can of 3-in-1 Extra Refined for Jenny, and a hot cup of tea for herself. "Do you think you feel calm enough now to talk about it…?"

Slowly, Jenny raised her head to look her mom directly in the eyes. She opened her mouth, about to speak, but the words just wouldn't come. She just _couldn't…_ She feared that if she told her mom the truth—the _whole_ truth—she'd start crying all over again. What was worse, Jenny feared, if her mom knew the whole truth, she'd _hate_ her for it. And to Jenny, that prospect was more frightening than anything else she could imagine…

"Go on, XJ-9, go on," her creator coaxed, gently. "You know you want to. You've been wanting to for _days_ now. Go ahead. You'll feel better afterwards. You'll see."

She continued to look at her creator. _Well,_ she thought. _It's now or never…_ She mustered up her courage…and proceeded to tell her mom the rest of the story of what had happened between her and Sheldon at the secret-agent compound, specifically how she had gotten angry at Sheldon, how she'd flown after him, chasing him and firing her laser-cannons at him.

When she had finished her story, a chilly silence fell upon the room.

Jenny waited for a reaction—a response, a reply, _anything—_from her creator. But when none was forthcoming, she spoke. "Well…that's what I—" she stopped herself. "That's what happened…" She finished, meekly.

But Dr. Wakeman only stared at her robotic daughter, her face now a mask of white marble, as stark-white as her hair, her expression one of stunned shock…and deep, profound disappointment.

"Mom…?" Jenny asked, in a pitifully-small voice. "Mom…? _Say_ something…!"

The icy silence continued for eons of time, before Dr. Wakeman finally spoke. "You…you…" she began, her voice breaking. "You used your weapons against _Sheldon?!_ One of your _friends?!"_ She gulped loudly. "Do—Do you realize what that means, what you've done? Do you realize?" For a moment, it looked as though she were about to break down and cry herself.

"Mom…! Please…! Don't look at me like that…!"

Dr. Wakeman swallowed. "Do you _realize?!"_ she repeated, her voice now growing in intensity.

"I know, I know…!" Jenny said, weakly.

"No, I don't think you do!" There was no mistaking the cold, controlled fury, the deep, bitter disapproval in her voice, as she shook her head. "I don't think you realize it at all! Using your powers against one of your _friends?!_ Someone who _trusted_ you?! Someone who _helped_ you?! Oh, XJ-9! Oh, _XJ-9…!"_ Dr. Wakeman's tone now changed to one of deep sadness, her thick lenses failing to conceal the tears now welling in her eyes. "XJ-9, how _could_ you?! How _could_ you?! I've told you a thousand times: With great power goes great responsibility! And now you've gone and done the _worst,_ most _irresponsible_ thing you could possibly do! _You've attacked one of your friends with your powers!"_

"_But...but Mom…!"_ Jenny whimpered.

"Don't 'but mom' me! You are _never_ to misuse your powers that way! _Never, never, __ever__!_ Under _any_ circumstances! I've _told_ you this! I've told you and _told_ you, a thousand times and more! I provided you with those weapons and those powers to _help_ people! To defend against enemies! To protect us! _Never_ to deliberately hurt people! _Or_ to use in anger! And—and now…for you to turn your powers against that boy—when he wasn't even attacking you…!" her voice broke. _"What on Earth is wrong with you?!"_ she cried. _"Can't you even tell the difference between your friends and your enemies anymore?!"_

"Mom, _please!"_ Jenny cried. _"Please!_ I feel guilty enough about it as it is!"

"As well you should!" Dr. Wakeman scolded. "You _should_ feel guilty! You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady!" She sobbed, then she went on. "I thought when I made you that I gave you a heart! Feelings! Compassion! But apparently I was wrong! You _have_ no feelings! You _have_ no heart!" Dr. Wakeman pulled her glasses off, grabbed a handful of paper-napkins, and buried her face in them, weeping openly.

_Nice going, Jenny!_ She said to herself. _You've really done it this time! You've made your mother cry!_

She leapt up from her chair, and hurried over to her creator's side.

"Mom…! Mom, I'm _sorry!_ I'm _sorry! Please_ don't cry! _Please!_ I didn't mean to…! I didn't mean to…!" she whimpered.

After countless long minutes, Dr. Wakeman looked up, wiping her eyes. "Oh, XJ-9… I—I'm the one who's sorry… I shouldn't have said what I did… I didn't mean it… You _do_ have a heart! It's just… Maybe it's _me!_ Maybe it's _my_ fault! Maybe…maybe if I'd been a better mother to you…"

"No, no, Mom, you're _great!_ It's _me_ that's no good!"

"No, no, don't say that. Please…don't say that…" Dr. Wakeman paused, drew several deep breaths…and blew her nose. "I'm sorry, it's just that…when I made you, I thought you were perfect; as perfect as I _could_ make you... I thought…" she swallowed. "I thought at long last, that I'd finally succeeded, that I'm not a failure! That I'd finally made a robot that we could all _trust,_ to _protect_ us, to keep us _safe!"_ She paused, and averted her eyes, as though it was too painful for her to continue. "But—but when you…" she swallowed hard, and went on. "When you told me…what you'd done… I…I thought I'd failed _again._ I thought I'd failed and built another Armagedroid, only smaller. A heartless, soulless machine with no feelings, no compassion; a mindless automaton, only good for destruction."

Jenny shuddered at her creator's words. Dr. Wakeman noticed, wiped her eyes again, and shook her head.

"But…but that's not true." She went on. "You're _not_ like Armagedroid! You _do_ have a heart! You _are_ good. But…XJ-9…listen to me." She said, replacing her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "You have enormous powers that are capable of causing great damage and inflicting serious harm and injury to people. They're _only_ to be used in self-defense. Or in the defense of Earth against attack from enemies. Or to protect us from danger and save lives in the event of disaster, things of that nature. Do you understand? You have a responsibility to use your powers to _help_ people, not hurt them! You _can't_ just lash out and attack your friends with your powers that way, simply because you're angry at them! You simply_ can't!"_ she cried. "You have got to learn self-control! You _have_ to! You _must!_ It's vitally important!"

"But Mom…!"

"Oh, XJ-9… _Listen_ to me, please! After what you've done…" She swallowed, then went on. "That agency…" she faltered. "I—_I could lose you!"_

Jenny stared at her creator in bewilderment. "Lose me? What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"That—that government agency," Dr. Wakeman replied. "Yes, we were lucky to get them called off this time—at least, for a while. But the chances are, someone else in authority is liable to take their place! If they already had you and all the other robots under surveillance all this time, that means they already had suspicions that you were all potentially dangerous. After this incident, they're probably even more convinced of it now than ever! This probably won't be the last we'll hear from them. They could easily come back at any time!"

"But—but I thought you said that I have Civil Rights, just like humans do!"

"Yes, you do! But you _also_ have to obey the same laws that humans do as well! As with humans, your rights entail _responsibility!"_

"Mom, I know all about that 'responsibility' stuff—"

"_XJ-9, listen to me!"_ Dr. Wakeman exclaimed. "There are _still_ plenty of lawmakers who think Robot Civil Rights laws are ludicrous and should be abolished and that _all_ robots should go back to being treated as property! All they'd need is an excuse; just one excuse, anything that they could point to and say, 'This proves that robots are dangerous and can't be trusted! If they'll even attack a friend, then imagine what they'll do to the rest of us!' And if you—or _any_ robot—had attacked a human being without just cause—especially one of your friends!—and seriously injured him—or _worse!—_it would give those lawmakers all the excuse they'd need. Once they had that, they could easily start trying to get the Robot Civil Rights laws repealed, and it wouldn't be difficult for them to persuade other legislators to join them. And in the meantime, they could _easily_ come back with a warrant or a court-order or some other official legal document that says you're 'dangerous' or 'unstable,' and confiscate you! You could be taken away from me! Taken away, de-activated and—and—" she trembled, unable to finish.

Jenny's eyes widened with horror as she now began to fully realize just how serious the consequences of her actions could have been…and could yet still be.

"That's right!" Dr. Wakeman confirmed, when she saw that Jenny had grasped her meaning. "To put it in human terms, _you could be arrested!_ And, unlike humans, there would be no 'trial', no 'appeals process'; only a hearing, probably nothing more. In such a situation, my friend Thurman Cutler _might_ be able to help you and possibly minimize what they could do to you…but there are no guarantees that he'd be successful or that the outcome would be a good one."

She paused again, allowing the full implications to sink in.

"Is that…?" Jenny hesitated. "Is that why…for the first few years, after you made me…you didn't want me to go outside and interact with people?" she asked in a small, frightened voice. "You were afraid I might…_hurt_ someone…?"

"No, no, XJ-9, I never thought anything like that," Dr. Wakeman said reassuringly. "It wasn't that I didn't think you could be trusted around people. And I wasn't afraid that you might hurt them, either. Rather, it was just that…I wasn't sure if people could or would accept you. And I knew how…cruel people can sometimes be. As you've since learned yourself firsthand, people can often…say and do cruel, hurtful things to those who are different. And I wasn't sure how you'd…react to such situations."

"You were afraid I would overreact and hurt someone, weren't you! Like I did to Sheldon!" Jenny said, her lower lip quivering as she spoke.

"No, no, of course not!" Dr. Wakeman replied. "It's just that I wasn't sure if your coping-skills were developed enough yet to leave a controlled environment for long periods of time. I wasn't sure if you were ready to…deal with people and handle all the variables one encounters in the human world on a daily basis."

From the expression on Jenny's face, it was clear she didn't entirely believe her creator. "Maybe your instincts were right!" she said. "Maybe I _shouldn't_ have been allowed to leave this house in the first place! Maybe I _am_ dangerous! Maybe I _can't_ be trusted to be around people! Maybe—" As she said this, her eyes began to tear up again.

"Now XJ-9, you stop that! Just stop it! Now you _know_ that isn't true! Of course I didn't think you would hurt anyone; it's just that I was afraid you might be…traumatized somehow by bad experiences, that they might taint your perceptions, make you embittered and turn you against human beings." She paused, then went on. "I was afraid that people might…be cruel to you and hurt you; hurt your feelings, that is. Oh yes! Despite what I said earlier, the truth is, from a very early age, you showed definite signs of genuine feelings!" She paused. "But…I now realize that I was merely being…over-protective. You'll forgive me for that, I'm sure. After all, mothers are like that sometimes!" she said with a wry smile. "But I never should have doubted you. In so many ways, you've exceeded my expectations and performed far better than I ever could have anticipated." She paused, and her features suddenly grew very stern, her tone hard. _"For the most part,_ that is! Except for the rare instances like _this_ one!" she concluded with a chilling scowl on her face. Jenny hung her head.

Dr. Wakeman cleared her throat, then went on. "Now…I think Senator Wizner and Thurmond Cutler should be able to keep those wolves in that agency at bay. At least, for the time being. But I don't _know._ I _hope_ they will, anyway. It's just lucky that no one was seriously hurt at that compound. But if someone had been… If you had…hurt Sheldon…or anyone else…I mean, _really_ hurt him _badly…"_ she hesitated. "Then…then…" she paused, unable to continue; then, "Think about that for just a minute. Try to imagine how you'd feel if you'd seriously hurt your friend—or _worse!_ If you think you feel guilty now, that's nothing compared to how you'd feel _then." _

Jenny fell silent, and after a moment, she shuddered as she tried to imagine such a scenario. "I'm…I'm _sorry,_ Mom…" she whispered, as she reached out her arms to comfort her creator. "I'm sorry…I _failed_ you…"

Dr. Wakeman reached out her arms as well and drew her daughter close to her, and for several countless minutes, creator and robot gently embraced each other.

"XJ-9…" Dr. Wakeman said softly. "Listen to me. I'm not the one you should apologize to. And deep down inside…you know that as well."

As she said this, Dr. Wakeman felt her daughter tense up. Jenny immediately released her embrace and pulled away, looking at her creator. Dr. Wakeman nodded, as though confirming what Jenny already knew. Jenny turned away, her eyes shut tightly.

"I suppose you want me to apologize to Sheldon." she said quietly. "Is that it?"

"Well…isn't that what _you_ think you should do?"

"But _Mom!" _Jenny protested, wheeling about to face her creator. "After what he's done to me? Joining that agency? Deceiving me? Keeping secrets? _Spying_ on me? You think I should apologize to him after he's done all that?" Jenny pouted and folded her arms. "He knew about those creeps from the beginning, and never said a word about it! _Not a word!_ So if anyone should apologize, _he_ should!"

"And didn't he?" Dr. Wakeman asked softly.

Jenny looked away, but said nothing.

"Well, didn't he?" Dr. Wakeman repeated.

"Well…yes!" Jenny finally admitted. "But that's not the point! The point is, he never should have—"

"XJ-9." Dr. Wakeman interrupted, rising to her feet, her voice quiet but with a cold, steely edge that immediately captured Jenny's attention. "Sit down. And look at me."

Jenny caught the unmistakable meaning of Dr. Wakeman's tone of voice, and she did as she was instructed: She sat down immediately and gave her creator her full attention.

"Now…this isn't about Sheldon," Dr. Wakeman went on. "This is about you. This is about the kind of person you want to be. Now, I know you feel hurt and angry and betrayed by Sheldon's involvement with that agency. I understand that. But that doesn't excuse what you did to him. Do you understand? _It doesn't excuse it. Using your powers against your friends to deliberately hurt them is wrong! Period! __You __were __wrong__!_ And make no mistake about it! _You do not abuse or mistreat your friends with your powers that way for any reason!_ I don't care _how_ angry you are! You are _never_ to do anything like that again! _Ever! _Do you understand me?"

Jenny nodded. "Yes, Mother," she replied, meekly.

Dr. Wakeman regarded Jenny with a chilly silence, allowing her words to penetrate, to ensure that her robotic daughter had gotten the message.

"Are we absolutely clear on this point?" she went on in her sharpest tone, her gaze withering. "Are we communicating here?"

"Yes, Mother," Jenny repeated, in a tiny, subdued, utterly defeated voice. At that precise moment, she felt more like a little tin toy than a six-and-a-half-foot tall superpowered robot.

There was no question about it: Dr. Wakeman was dead serious this time and meant business. And Jenny knew it.

The icy silence continued for a seeming eternity, before Dr. Wakeman took a long, deep breath, and sat down again. "Besides," she went on, in a slightly softer tone. "I think we both know Sheldon well enough by now to know that he probably feels worse about what he did than you do. He probably feels guilty and ashamed for his involvement with that agency; all the more so if he thinks it's also cost him his best friend."

In spite of herself, Jenny's features softened at the reminder that—in spite of everything—Sheldon could still think of her as "his best friend."

Dr. Wakeman continued, "You know, you've matured so much just in the last few years. I can't make the decision to apologize for you. It's something you ultimately have to decide for yourself. But I can tell you this much: If you don't resolve this matter somehow…resolve this conflict that's inside of you, it's only going to get worse in time; a lot worse." She shook her head. "And I don't know what the long-term consequences of that will be."

"But…I still don't understand something," Jenny objected, trying desperately to change the subject. "If this conscience program's been part of me from the beginning, how come it never gave me nightmares before? I mean, I've done stuff in the past that I was sorry for and I never had bad dreams like this!"

"But that's just it!" Dr. Wakeman replied. "In the past, you've _always_ apologized and said you were sorry when you did something wrong. Like when you shoplifted the Musique. Remember? You apologized for stealing it, admitted you were wrong and you worked hard to make up for it. This time, you didn't."

Jenny said nothing; but she began to frown again.

"I don't know why you're fighting me so hard on this." Dr. Wakeman went on. "And I don't know why you're so reluctant to apologize to Sheldon, either. If it were anyone else, you'd apologize immediately. Why not him? It's quite frankly beyond me why you seem to have such a personal grudge against him. It's not like you."

Jenny looked away and closed her eyes tightly. "Because he _betrayed_ me, that's why." She said, quietly. "Again! He was a friend that I _thought_ I could trust—one of the few people in the whole world that I thought I _could_ trust—and it turns out he was part of that plot to destroy robots." She shuddered at the thought. "I trusted him…and I was even beginning to _like_ him…a little bit. I was just starting to think, _hey, maybe he isn't such a bad guy after all._ And then…he goes and does _this…!"_ She shook her head, unable to go on.

"But XJ-9," Dr. Wakeman said, quietly. "He _did_ apologize for his involvement with that agency, remember. You said he admitted he was wrong for joining them and was sorry for it. Just like he was sorry for stealing your plans last year. Remember? He was wrong then, but he apologized and we forgave him."

Still, Jenny said nothing.

"We _did_ forgive him for that…didn't we…?" Dr. Wakeman prompted.

After a silence, Jenny replied, grudgingly—though not convincingly, "Yes!"

"Very well then," Dr. Wakeman went on. "So if we can forgive him for what he did, then he ought to be able to forgive you for—" she hesitated. "For what you did. _But only if you apologize to him." _She paused. "And, considering how severe the consequences of your actions could have been—and could still be yet," she went on. "It seems to me that a simple apology to the injured party is the absolute very _least_ you could do. And, in my opinion, you have absolutely no reason whatsoever not to."

Still, Jenny remained silent.

Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, releasing a deep sigh. "But…to answer your question," she went on. "As to why you never had nightmares like these before…Now, this is just a guess on my part… But perhaps it's because in the past, you've never done anything this serious or this hurtful to any of your friends before. At least…not to _my_ knowledge!" Dr. Wakeman shot Jenny a particularly sharp _You'd better not have!_ look as she said this. "After all, you normally only_ protect_ your friends, not attack them!" Another long, withering look. Jenny lowered her eyes.

"Or perhaps," Dr. Wakeman went on. "Perhaps it's because—as I said a moment ago—in the past, whenever you did something wrong, you always apologized, and usually right away. You didn't let it stew inside you for days on end, the way you did this time. Or perhaps this time, as I speculated earlier, your anger blocked your normal feelings of remorse, displacing them and perhaps that could be what's causing the conflict in the conscience program in the first place. Or perhaps it's a combination of all of these factors. It's hard to say."

"I still don't see why I should apologize to him!" Jenny grumbled. "Or why an apology is so necessary anyway!"

Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, stroking her chin deep in thought. "For forgiveness," she said at last.

"Forgiveness?" Jenny asked. "Why do I need _his_ forgiveness?"

Dr. Wakeman paused before she replied, "So that you can forgive_ yourself._ You see XJ-9, it's my belief that, until you can forgive yourself for what you did to Sheldon, the guilt you feel from your own conscience will continue to cause problems for you, to give you nightmares, to gradually 'eat you up inside,' so to speak."

Jenny blinked and her features softened, as her creator's words so uncannily described the eerie, empty hollowness she'd experienced the night before.

"But I don't even like him that much!" she grumbled in lingering defiance, folding her arms.

"Are you so sure that's true?" Dr. Wakeman asked, quietly. "If that were truly the case, would you have gotten this angry and upset about the whole incident? I know you often say that you don't like him and you seem awfully hostile to him much of the time—although _why,_ I can't imagine. But I really can't help but wonder sometimes if perhaps you 'protest too much.'"

Slowly, Jenny turned to regard her creator quizzically.

"Isn't it possible…that perhaps you care more about him than you're willing to admit?" Dr. Wakeman suggested. "You said only a moment ago that you were just starting to like him a little bit. Could it be that perhaps you like him _more_ than just a little bit? And could you perhaps be in denial about it to some degree? And could that not also be a source of inner conflict? After all, you said yourself that's why you felt so hurt and angry when you felt he betrayed you. Perhaps that could also be why you convinced yourself to stay angry at him for so long."

Jenny remained silent; but a slight change in her expression indicated to Dr. Wakeman that she was at least considering the possibility—however much she might not want to.

"If you do, in fact, like him—in spite of everything—it's nothing to be ashamed of, you know; nothing to be embarrassed about." Dr. Wakeman pointed out. "After all, you said yourself—just this morning in fact—that he's always been kind to you and had faith in you and was always there when you needed him. And you also admitted—if I may quote you—that you were 'horrible to him, just horrible.'"

Jenny winced at hearing her own words recited back to her; but another subtle change in her expression indicated that, although she didn't want to acknowledge them, she couldn't deny their truth, either.

"He really does like you a lot, you know." Dr. Wakeman went on. "He really cares about you. And I can tell you, that's a very rare, very precious thing in the world today; not something to be cast aside lightly."

Jenny said nothing, but ever so slowly, she lowered her head.

"And, while you're thinking it over," Dr. Wakeman said quietly. "It also might interest you to know that Sheldon lied to me, too. He lied to protect you."

Jenny looked up to face her creator, her eyebrows raised.

"What?!" she asked. "To—to _protect_ me?! How? When?"

"When I called him up the day after you came back from that compound, to ask his side of the story. After I couldn't get anything out of _you,_ that is!" Jenny winced at this, but Dr. Wakeman went on. "I asked him if you had done anything wrong out at that compound or if you had done anything to hurt him. And he lied and said that you didn't. Do you understand? He lied to cover for you."

Jenny fell silent as she considered this. She couldn't believe it. "He did that for me…?" she whispered.

Dr. Wakeman nodded. "And that's not all he did for you, either. The truth is, if it hadn't been for his scientific and technical assistance, I might never have been able to reach you when you were on Cluster Prime."

Jenny was stunned; it was one of the extremely-rare occasions when her creator had ever admitted she needed help with anything within the scientific field.

"Not only did he help me solve the problems involved in jumping aboard Queen Vexus' ship and operating it, but he also showed tremendous courage during the voyage itself, through the multi-lateral Cluster vortex. As a matter of fact, it was he who took control of the ship to go through the vortex in the first place, not me. I didn't want to risk it, but Sheldon just took the initiative and forged ahead, without a moment's hesitation, ignoring the danger involved. And he did it all just to rescue you."

Jenny was completely flabbergasted. "I don't believe it!" she exclaimed.

"Nevertheless, it's true. Believe me, he took a very active role in the events of Cluster Prime, and he behaved like a true hero throughout that entire episode."

Jenny shook her head in amazement. "I had no idea," she said. "I guess I always just assumed all this time that he just tagged along and ended up only getting in the way, just like he always does." She paused. "I would've thought that, if anyone would've taken charge in a situation like that, it would have been Brad, not Sheldon."

"Brad?!" Dr. Wakeman exclaimed. "Pshaw! Rubbish! He wasn't even aboard the ship! I _still_ don't know how he got to Cluster Prime, but he certainly wasn't on board Queen Vexus' ship, I can tell you that. No, no, XJ-9, if _anyone_ was the hero in helping me get to Cluster Prime, it was Sheldon."

Jenny fell silent as she pondered the full meaning and implications of her creator's words. _Maybe Brad was right after all!_ She thought. _Maybe we should stop underestimating Sheldon!_

"So you see, XJ-9, the truth is, Sheldon has been a much better friend to you than you give him credit for," Dr. Wakeman went on, quietly. "After all he's done to help bring you back to earth, you have to admit that you at least owe him that much. So for that reason alone, you certainly owe him an apology now for what you did to him out at that compound." She paused, then dropped her voice low. "And, let's not forget, after all, that it was _you_ who wanted to go out into the world and make friends in a world of humans in the first place. That being the case, I can assure you that a large part of making and _keeping_ friends is knowing when to apologize when you've wronged them."

Jenny looked away and remained silent for countless minutes. Then, "Stupid conscience program…!" she muttered quietly, frowning. "I still don't see why I need the dumb thing anyway!"

Dr. Wakeman was silent for an immeasurable period of time before she replied softly, "Do you want to be like Armagedroid? Or…" her voice dropped to barely a whisper, "Like Misty…?"

Jenny turned to face her creator, her scowl vanishing immediately at the reminder of her former friend.

"I know how you feel about…your falling-out with her, and losing her as a friend," Dr. Wakeman continued. "But I mention her only to show you that this isn't just about robots. You saw how the both Armagedroid _and_ Misty behaved when they used their powers without compassion, without conscience. And you saw how terrible the consequences were. Is that what you want to be?" she paused. "Do you want to be feared, as they were? Or do you want to be loved and admired? Do you want to be a heartless, soulless machine, like Armagedroid, acting without feelings…? Or a ruthless and amoral mercenary, like Misty? Wouldn't you rather be..._Jenny,_ the beloved _Friend_ and _Protector_ of Mankind…?"

Jenny looked into her creator's eyes, so warm, so loving, so caring. A long silence followed, as she struggled with the internal conflict that had been ceaselessly plaguing her for days and nights on end.

"XJ-9… _Jenny…"_ Dr. Wakeman said softly, switching to her daughter's chosen name. "Now, you know…you _know,_ deep down inside of yourself, even without my telling you, even without a conscience program…that you were wrong to use your powers to attack your friend. Isn't that true…?" She paused. "And you know…you _know…_what you have to do now to set things right…don't you…?"

Jenny lowered her head, shutting her eyes tightly, as she mulled over her conflicted feelings about Sheldon, recalling again all the countless acts of kindness he had done for her over the years, all the actions he'd taken on her behalf, including—as she now knew—the role he'd played in returning her to earth from Cluster Prime. _And_ his lying to protect her in this latest incident.

And she recalled again her actions on that terrible day at the compound, the image burned indelibly in her memory of Sheldon, so small, so helpless there on the ground, running desperately for cover, trying to escape from her, trying to dodge the laser-cannon shots she fired as she chased him from the air. As she replayed the image in her mind, Jenny shuddered, as she felt anew the same terrible feelings of guilt and self-hatred, with the same terrible empty hollowness deep inside of her that she'd experienced the night before…

At last, she looked up to face her creator, and looked deeply into her eyes—those warm, caring, loving eyes—and she felt the last vestiges of anger and resentment dissipate. The battle between her conscience and her stubbornness was over, and her stubbornness had come out the loser. Her features softened and her eyes began to well with tears.

"You're right…" She conceded at last in a near-whisper, as she wiped her eyes. "You're right…I _do_ need to apologize to him… I _have_ to…" She paused and shook her head, sadly. "But…but I don't know how I can face him... He probably won't even speak to me now! He's _scared_ of me! And he probably _hates_ me now, too! And I don't blame him!"

"XJ-9, now you know that's not true; Sheldon doesn't hate you—"

"It _is_ true!" Jenny said, sadly. "He's been avoiding me all week long! He's afraid to even come near me!" she sobbed and rose to her feet. She walked to the doorway and stopped. Dr. Wakeman said nothing, but merely watched her robotic daughter in silence.

Jenny felt her mom's eyes on the back of her head, and avoided looking at them for as long as she could. Finally, she slowly turned, met her mom's gaze and said, "But…I _will_ apologize." Her tone was now firm, decisive, as though she were embarking on a mission. "One way or another, I _will_ find him and apologize, without fail."

"When?" Dr. Wakeman asked gently.

"Today. Today at school." She glanced up at the clock. "I should be leaving soon anyway, it's almost eleven."

"Just a minute," Dr. Wakeman spoke up as she got to her feet and walked over to her robotic daughter, scrutinizing her narrowly. "Describe your condition." She said dispassionately, her tone now coldly clinical.

As prompted, without hesitation, Jenny replied, as if on-cue. "Stable. Calm. In-control."

"Are you sure?"

Jenny nodded. "Yeah. I'm all right now. I had a rough time there for awhile, but…it passed."

"Will you be all right?"

Jenny nodded again. "Yeah… I'll be fine."

"Well…all right then." Dr. Wakeman seemed to relax. "I hope everything goes well. And let me know how everything turns out when you get home, all right? Will you do that for me?"

"I will."

With that, Jenny turned and climbed upstairs to her bedroom, where she retrieved her backpack, headed back downstairs and towards the front door.

"XJ-9?" Dr. Wakeman called out to her daughter one last time.

"Yeah, Mom?" Jenny turned to face her creator.

"No matter what happens, no matter what you've done…I still love you."

"I love you too, Mom!"

Jenny turned on her heel and walked out the front door, blasting off into the sky as her rocket-jets carried her away towards school.

* * *

End Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6—Missed Connections

_Author's Note: As always, a big thank-you to all the loyal readers who continue to check in regularly and follow this not-so-little tale, particularly those who continue to leave encouraging comments and feedback; believe me: It's all very much appreciated! Thank you one and all!_

_Sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter; some "real life" issues intervened a couple of months ago to cut into my fiction-writing time. (Nothing bad, nothing serious, just…a bit inconvenient, that's all; enough to put me a bit behind schedule, so far as regular postings are concerned…) Also, as you will see, this is a really long chapter! Like a jigsaw-puzzle, it took awhile to put together and make sure all the pieces fit. (And it wasn't exactly easy to write in the first place, for some strange reason!) But I promise I'll try real hard not to make everyone wait another two months for the next chapter!_

_Anyway, think of our story as a two-act play. The end of Chapter 5 marked the close of Act One, after which there followed an intermission, with the curtain now rising on Act Two of our little drama…_

_Sometimes, a simple apology isn't quite so simple to make…_

**Resolution**

A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic  
By Shvique

**Chapter 6—Missed Connections**

The past two weeks had been the most difficult and miserable period of Sheldon's entire young life, as he suffered the throes of his heartbreak over Jenny. The first heartbreak of one's life is often the most difficult, but in Sheldon's case, the pain he experienced was much more intense, went much deeper, and was much more profound in nature. It wasn't only the realization that Jenny hated him—although that was painful enough. No, what made it truly devastating for him was her cruel betrayal and attack upon him—for in so doing, she had also betrayed everything that he believed she stood for and represented. He had placed so much trust in her, had so much faith in her…but it was a faith and trust that had turned out to be tragically misplaced, as he had learned to his cost. It was this, as much as anything else, that had made the experience so truly soul-shattering for him.

It was, in fact, the first major existential life-crisis he had ever faced, and he found himself questioning the very meaning and purpose of his life, wondering if in fact it even _had_ any meaning or purpose at all. For the first time ever, he came to question, re-evaluate and eventually abandon many of the beliefs and ideals in which he'd long believed. He'd had to face and accept some hard facts of life, make some very painful decisions, and arrive at some new, and not very pleasant conclusions.

The first few days had been the most difficult, and just trying to get through them proved to be especially painful and challenging. Now that his most cherished beliefs had been shattered, and his highest ideals had been proven to be false and illusory, Sheldon felt as though his life had lost all meaning, and he felt empty inside. _If you can't believe in heroes—or even friends, for that matter—then what else is there? _he wondered. _What's left to believe in? What is the point of it all?_

For days on end, he essentially functioned on autopilot, going through the motions of each day automatically, out of habit, almost as though he were merely sleepwalking, taking little or no notice of the world around him, taking pleasure in nothing and feeling nothing. Many of the interests and activities he had formerly enjoyed and from which he had once taken such great pleasure now held no meaning for him, leaving him cold and empty inside. Even his role-playing games, his beloved comic books and graphic-novels failed to bring him much solace in his present mood. They still had their use as time-filling distractions, of course, but beyond that, they no longer provided him much in the way of true enjoyment. Somehow, they all seemed so…juvenile to him now, so pointless and irrelevant to his life, especially since many of them contained themes based upon the same values and ideals which he now believed were nothing but lies: such quaint but evidently-false notions as heroism, self-sacrifice, faith, trust, loyalty and devotion to friends, the value of kindness, gratitude and other, similar sentiments.

_Lies!_ he told himself bitterly. _It's all just lies, all a bunch of garbage… I've tried to be kind to Jenny from the beginning, I've always been loyal to her, devoted to her, I've always done my best for her in any way I could…yet she's __never__ shown me the slightest bit of gratitude for it! Never! Instead, I always get dumped on! Again and again! This last time was the worst of all! What's the point of trying to be good and kind to someone, being devoted and loyal to her, trying to do the right thing for her, if you're only going to get dumped on in the end for your trouble? I mean, the heck with it! It's not worth it! And as for 'heroism,' HA! That's the biggest joke of all! Heroes probably only act heroically when people are watching, that's all, just to get attention and all the glory. When no one's watching, they probably act just as rotten as Jenny did at that compound! She's certainly no 'hero,' that's for sure! She's no better than any of the rest of us! In some ways, she's a thousand times worse!_

And so, he went through his days in an emotionally cold, dry, empty state, devoid of all feelings, all emotion, save for bitterness, sadness, disillusionment and deep, deep disappointment. It was almost as though he had been transformed into a mechanical automaton himself, with nearly all signs of humanity now gone from him, functioning automatically on only the most technical and mechanistic of levels.

There were times, in fact, when he truly wondered if he could go on, wondering if his life even mattered all that much, wondering whether it was even worth living. If all he had to look forward to was a lifetime of rejection, isolation, alienation and humiliation, to be forever tormented by others as an object of ridicule, then what good was it? What was the purpose of it all? After all, a world filled with such cruelty as that which he'd experience himself firsthand, was a world in which he wasn't sure he wanted to live anyway. It was a world in which he knew he had no place, and doubted that he could ever truly belong. After all, if even a supposed 'friend' could so cruelly turn against him as Jenny had, then didn't it prove that cruelty and betrayal were the norm in this world? Something to be expected as a matter of course? And that there was, in the end, _no one_ in the world whom he could really trust? If so, then it was _definitely_ a world of which he wanted no part…

He came close at times to giving in completely to despair, wondering whether the world would even notice his absence from it, if he'd even be missed by anyone. Anyone, that is, other than his mom, perhaps; and even then, he sometimes had his doubts. But no one else would ever miss him in all likelihood, he thought. And Jenny _certainly_ never would, he was now sure of that... And although he never actually entertained any serious thoughts about committing a desperate, irreversible act, there were times when he'd come distressingly close…

And yet…however strongly as he sometimes felt the pull to surrender completely to despair, he simultaneously felt a small, tiny part of himself deep within fight back desperately _not_ to surrender, _not_ to let go, _not_ to give in, pulling him back and away from the abyss of despair. That small, tiny part within him was, both literally and figuratively, his only lifeline during these dark and trying times.

Another saving grace for Sheldon was the fact that, in addition to his feelings of sadness and heartache, there were also mixed in the base alloys of brewing anger, resentment and outrage over having been betrayed so despicably by a friend for whom he had done so much, and in whom he had placed so much trust. Each day during this period, his mood alternated between despondency and outraged anger, until the two emotions gradually coalesced and congealed over time to form a bitter, vitriolic brew of caustic, quietly seething disgust. While by no means a pleasant mood to be in, it was in some ways an improvement over the deep depression into which he'd initially been plunged.

And with the passage of time, Sheldon's despondency began to fade, and he gradually found it easier to think clearly again. And, little by little, he began to fill the emptiness inside with a new set of goals and priorities that he'd set for himself, and with those new goals there came a renewed sense of purpose in his life, and a renewed sense of self-worth. If his old life had lost its former meaning, he decided, then it was up to him to replace that loss with _new_ meaning. Now that the world of ideals and sentimental, romantic notions had proven to be completely false and illusory, Sheldon vowed to abandon all trust and belief in such foolish indefinable intangibles, such as "love" or "friendship" or "kindness," or for that matter, _anything_ in life that could not be quantified and proven scientifically. Instead, he chose to re-dedicate himself to the _real_ world, the world of mathematics, science and technology with renewed vigor. _After all,_ he reminded himself, _numbers will never let you down! They'll never betray you, and they'll never hurt you!_ He found this thought strangely comforting in his present mood.

And with his new life goals and his renewed sense of self-worth, he now saw a means by which he would _prove_ his worth to the world. He _would_ make something of himself, he vowed, and would let _nothing_ stand in his way. He _would_ achieve great things in his life, no matter what, in spite of all the bullies and all the cruel girls in the world. _I'll show them!_ He thought. _I'll show them __all__! They think I'm a 'loser'? I'll show __them__! I'll make something of myself yet! I'll be a famous scientist someday! I'll be the greatest inventor in the world! I'll be more rich and successful than the whole stupid bunch of them put together! __Then__ we'll see who's the 'loser'!_

In a perverse sort of way, he supposed, he almost felt as though he should be grateful that Jenny had betrayed him as she had. For, in so doing, she had at least opened his eyes to the real world as it was: the cold, hard, cruel reality of it; a reality stripped of all artifice and pretense; a reality in which such things as "virtues," "values" and "ideals" obviously had no place, meant nothing and served no purpose other than to deceive the foolish and the naïve, such as he himself had once been.

But even if was mistaken, even if such things as "values" and "virtues" did exist anywhere in the world, they could _never_ be found in someone like Jenny, Sheldon concluded. No, whatever qualities he might hope to one day find in a nice girl—qualities such as kindness, compassion, sensitivity, _the capacity to love—_could _never_ be found in a cold, lifeless piece of machinery, however sophisticated it might be. That being the case, then whatever purpose, fulfillment or happiness he was ever destined to find in life, it could never be found by pursuing the hopeless love of a robot-girl who would never love him back; who _could_ never love him back. That, he was convinced, was a hard, inescapable fact of life that would never change, that he would simply have to accept and learn to live with, if he was ever to have any hope of moving forward in his life.

His dedication to and focus upon his new life-goals was distracted only by the occasional necessity of having to avoid Jenny during school hours. Through sheer willpower, he was able to force himself _not_ to look at her, talk to her, or even _think_ about her, but instead to only focus on his new life-goals. It wasn't easy, but somehow, he had managed it.

Consequently, by Friday morning of the second week, Sheldon felt as though he had come through the worst of it. He was still depressed of course, but no longer to the point of being nearly-immobilized by it. He knew that, however difficult and challenging the upcoming days, weeks and even months ahead might be, he would nevertheless persevere and come through them, somehow. One way or another, he would _survive,_ just as he always had_._

The morning itself had gone fairly smoothly, relatively-speaking. He hadn't seen Jenny anywhere in the hallways so far, and so he didn't have to go through his by-now-usual 'avoidance ritual' of dodging her, running away, losing himself in a crowd and all the rest. By now, he'd gotten into the habit of taking several detours as he went his way from class to class. That part was relatively easy, as over the years of following Jenny around, Sheldon had become so accustomed to her daily routine that he was practically able to anticipate her every move; consequently, he found that he was now able to use that knowledge in reverse: by anticipating Jenny's likely moves throughout the day, _and then taking the route farthest from it._ So far, he'd mostly been successful at this; there'd only been that one close-call on that first day, when he'd accidentally bumped into her and had nearly given into weakness by almost speaking to her. On that occasion, he'd held himself in check just in the nick of time. And there'd been a few other, similar near-misses since then. A couple of times, he even thought he'd heard her calling his name from down the hall, but he just ignored it and kept on walking, only faster; he didn't want to repeat the heartache of that first encounter again if he could help it. No, he would continue to avoid and ignore her, even if it killed him…

The only exceptions to this ritual were in the few classes they shared, and—so far, anyway—he'd managed to avoid much contact with her during those as well. Those were the most difficult of all for Sheldon; he often had to muster every last ounce of his willpower to keep from slipping back into his old habits of going over to her, trying to talk to her and just trying to be friendly to her, as he'd always done in the past. Oh, how he sometimes wished he could go back to doing that! But, as he now knew, that would only be a futile, pointless waste of time. He now knew that he and Jenny were never really friends to begin with, and never would be. He now knew that Jenny in fact _hated_ him. And so he wouldn't fool himself into believing that she would ever return his friendly overtures. He knew better now. So he always held himself in check, choosing to keep his distance from her, however painful that might be. He had no other choice.

On one occasion, she'd even called out to him from her desk, just moments before the class-session started, as though trying to strike up a conversation with him. And on that occasion, Sheldon wanted so badly—ohhhh, so badly!—to at least respond to her, to show her that they were still friends, in spite of everything. But…he just couldn't bring himself to do it; it was too painful. Painful and pointless. The vivid, bitter memory of her heartless treatment of him made it impossible…

So, during Jenny's brief absence that morning, Sheldon began to feel a bit of relief for the first time in weeks. He knew Jenny would turn up eventually, of course, and though it would still be difficult, he would continue to avoid her as much as possible, just as he'd been doing. And in the meantime, he'd simply try to relax and enjoy the brief respite as best he could…

_If I can just make it through to the end of the day,_ he thought. _That's all. Then I'll be home free! Then it'll be the weekend and I'll worry about Monday when it gets here. But for now…I just wanna get through the rest of the day…I just gotta hold it together for a few more hours…then I'll be fine…_

"Hey, Sheldon, old buddy, what's up?" a familiar, amiable voice suddenly spoke up beside him.

Sheldon looked up, momentarily startled. It was Brad.

"Oh hey, Brad." Sheldon replied, relaxing again.

Brad immediately noticed his pal's edgy reaction. "Um…are you okay…?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, I'm _fine."_ Sheldon replied, just a _bit_ more sharply than he'd intended.

Brad was put slightly off-balance by his friend's unusually sour manner. He was about to say something about it, but at the last moment, he decided against it._ Something's obviously bugging him!_ He thought. _And I got a feeling he's not gonna want to talk about it!_

So instead, Brad decided to change the subject. "Say, have you seen Jenny around?" he asked casually. "I haven't seen her all morning."

"No, I haven't seen her," Sheldon replied flatly.

"I wonder if she's sick… No, no, I guess not; robots don't really get sick all that often, do they? Maybe something's busted on her or something and her mom hadda fix it. Or maybe she had to go fight off another infestation of giant Blattarians or something. They usually start to show up right around this time of year anyway. Last time Tremorton had a Blattarian infestation, I thought Jenny was gonna have to transform herself into a giant can of bug-spray to get rid of 'em all!" He smiled, hoping to prompt a similar reaction from Sheldon. But instead, Sheldon's expression remained grim and dour, and he continued walking in silence.

"Or maybe the Flying Spaghetti Monster is back in town, trying to do its whole mind-control thing on everybody again," Brad went on, walking alongside his friend. "Or maybe the Lemurian Loofa Beast is back, leaving a trail of slime all over the place! Hey, 'member the mess that thing left behind the last time it was here? Eesh! That stuff was _nasty! _Like smelly, stinky, slimy grape jelly covering all over _everything!"_

Sheldon merely shrugged, and continued walking, remaining silent.

"Anyhow, I sure hope she's all right," Brad continued.

"Well, I haven't seen her. I don't know where she is." Sheldon replied tonelessly. _Nor do I care!_ He thought, bitterly. "Anyway, why ask me? I don't keep tabs on her."

"Oh…? But I thought you were the biggest Jenny Wakeman fan there is, always following her around everywhere, knew everything about her and—"

"Look, _I don't know,_ all right?" Sheldon barked, the sudden vehemence of his response freezing Brad in his tracks.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Brad backed up, his hands raised defensively. "Calm down there, buddy! I didn't mean anything, I was only ask—"

"Look, I don't know where she is, I don't know what she's doing, I don't know _anything else_ about her! And I don't _care,_ either! All right?"

"But I thought—"

"Yeah, well, _you thought wrong!"_ With that, Sheldon stomped off in a huff through a classroom doorway, taking his seat inside and ignoring the startled looks from the other students.

Brad remained frozen where he stood, in stunned silence. He shook his head, utterly bewildered. _What is going on with those two anyway?_ He wondered, as he slowly turned and continued on his way to his next class. _Whatever it is, it must be something __really__ bad, to turn Sheldon against Jenny! I never thought I'd see that happen in a million years!_

* * *

Jenny rocketed across the sky, with the afterburners in her jets now activated for extra speed. It was only a short distance from her home to Tremorton High, but she was now cutting it a bit close, time-wise. She was already several hours late that morning as it was, and even though she had an excuse from her creator, she _still_ had to report in at 11:00, and if she missed that time or was even a _little_ bit late, she'd be in _big_ trouble with Vice-Principal Razinski. She already had enough problems to deal with as it was; she certainly didn't need any more.

_What's __wrong__ with me? What's __wrong__ with me?_ she wondered as she flew. _Maybe I __am__ defective! Maybe I __am__ deranged or liable to go rogue or something! I __have__ been losing my temper an awful lot lately! I picked a fight with Melody, I attacked those poor little aliens who came to me for help, I even took a laser-shot at Brad one time, and he's my best friend of all! And now I've attacked Sheldon! Oh my Jobs…! What is wrong with me?! Maybe I __am__ defective!_

So preoccupied was Jenny in her own private worries, mulling over the details of her terrible dream the night before, followed by the long, emotionally-draining talk she'd had with her creator earlier that morning, that she nearly passed right by the school without even noticing it. At the last moment, she realized that she was about to overshoot her destination entirely, and she stopped short and dropped from the sky like an anvil, before lighting ever-so-gently upon the front steps of the school. She stepped through the main entrance, headed straight for the vice-principal's office to report in, then made a quick dash to her 11:00 History class, settling into her seat mere seconds before the final bell rang.

"Hey Jen, where've you—" Brad began when he saw his friend seated next to him.

"_No talking in class!"_ Ms. Rahttinbottim barked out with all the finesse of a Skyway Patrol drill-sergeant (which, in fact, she had once been.)

Brad pulled his head down inside his collar like a turtle withdrawing into its shell. _Maybe….I'd better wait 'til lunch…_ he thought.

* * *

The noon bell rang and all the classroom-doors opened simultaneously, releasing a torrent of students out into the hallways, all coursing in a single direction: The school cafeteria. No matter how dreadful the school lunches usually were, food was food, and it was admittedly better than nothing (although there was some debate about that among the student-body.)

Sheldon was among the last to emerge from geology class, meandering his way in the same general direction as the others, already dreading—as did everyone else—what horrors lay in store for him on the day's lunch-menu. He began to think strategically, considering and planning alternative-selections, in case the main menu-items proved to be too revoltingly unpalatable.

_Maybe a green salad then?_ He thought. _Yeah, I could live with that, in case lunch turns out to be another 'Road-Kill Special' or something… I sure wish they had tofu on the menu once in a while, though… Either that or some sushi now and then would be nice… Or maybe tempura…that would be good, too…_

Sheldon was glad to finally have a real appetite again. During most of the past two weeks, he'd had almost none, and merely went through the motions of eating his meals more out of habit than anything else, taking no real enjoyment out of them any more than he took pleasure in anything else these days. But, with Jenny apparently absent for the day, Sheldon began to relax and actually look forward to lunchtime again, now that he could enjoy the noon meal without having it spoiled by heartache.

Sheldon had another reason to look forward to lunchtime, too: it offered him an opportunity to meet up with Brad and apologize for his behavior earlier that morning. Sheldon immediately regretted having blown up at his friend that way, especially since Brad was one of the few kids in school who actually treated him half-decently. But he just couldn't help himself. When Brad had inadvertently reminded him of what a fool he'd been to have wasted so much time and energy chasing after Jenny, something inside him just snapped and he exploded. Now he felt lousy about it…

He shrugged. _Well…_ he thought. _I'll see him in the cafeteria in a couple of minutes and I'll go apologize to him then. I'm sure he'll understand. He's a pretty understanding guy, after all…_

He continued down the main corridor towards the cafeteria-entrance, when off in the distance, he spotted a gleaming, blue-and-white spherical head with two metallic blue ponytails, bobbing head-and-shoulders above the milling crowd passing through the cafeteria-doors and into the serving and seating-area inside.

_Oh, no!_ He thought as he froze in his tracks. _She's back!_

His heart sank when he saw her, waves and waves of sadness, heartache and pain swept over him once more, and…little by little, Sheldon came to realize…that maybe he wasn't so hungry after all.

He lowered his eyes and his shoulders sagged, as he slowly turned around and ambled forlornly away from the cafeteria. He pulled a Nutri-grain bar out of the pocket his hoodie and began methodically chewing on it.

_Well…maybe I can get an early start on my homework, at least…_ he thought gloomily as he stepped through the doors of the school library and took a seat at a table inside.

* * *

Brad spotted Jenny already seated at the cafeteria-table that the two frequently shared, and he approached her with a smile. It was the first chance the two had had to talk and spend time with each other all day, and Brad was looking forward to it.

"So, Jen, where've you been?" he asked cheerfully as he set his tray on the table and sat down beside her. "Did you have a dentist's appointment or something?" He smiled, knowing full well, of course, that Jenny had no teeth.

"Hey, Brad," Jenny replied distractedly, briefly glancing at him. "It's—nothing, just…" she hesitated. "It's a personal thing." She forced her thumb through the top of her can of Cog-Aid and took a swallow. "I'd…rather not talk about it."

"Oh. Okay." Brad replied, pleasantly.

A silence followed, as Jenny sipped gloomily at her can of Cog-Aid, while Brad struggled with the inedible contents of his meal. He was, by now, almost used to Jenny's current ongoing 'moodiness,' and he also knew by now that, whatever it was that was on her mind, it was obviously something she didn't want to talk about. So far, he didn't say much about it…but this had been going on for _days_ now, and Brad was becoming more than a bit concerned about his robotic friend. And he had pretty much figured out that it somehow or other involved Sheldon…

Jenny took a few more sips of Cog-Aid, then glanced around the crowded cafeteria. "Um—have you seen Sheldon?" she asked suddenly.

"Um—well, I talked to him briefly earlier this morning for about a minute or two." Brad replied, as he wrestled with the lump of vulcanized-rubber ersatz meat-loaf that was the primary menu-item that day. "He practically bit my head off! I haven't seen him since." Brad finally managed to tear off a thumb-sized bit of the meatloaf, chewed it and swallowed it with great difficulty, chasing it down with several long swallows of soda. "And I don't know where he is now." He took a quick glance around the cafeteria, and shook his head. "Boy, I don't know what's with him today. He sure is in a bad mood. And he hasn't even tried this rotten food yet!" he grinned, hoping to coax a similar smile from Jenny's grim face.

But Jenny didn't respond. She merely stared with knitted brows at the surface of the lunch-table, sipping gloomily at the can of Cog-Aid. Brad couldn't quite 'read' her mood exactly. _And what the heck is with __her__ these days, for that matter? _He wondered._ Is she angry or sad or what?_ _She sure isn't happy, that much is obvious!_

"Soooooo…" Brad began, nonchalantly. "What exactly is going on with you two, anyway? Did you have a fight or something?"

Jenny spat out a mouthful of Cog-Aid, spewing it all over the tabletop. "No, we didn't have a fight or something!" she cried. "What kind of question is that? And there's _nothing_ going on between me and Sheldon, either! Do you hear me? Nothing! I don't care about him! I don't care _anything_ about him! At all! He means nothing to me! Nothing! And it's none of your business anyway! So butt out!" She got to her feet and stormed out of the cafeteria, flinging the nearly-full can of Cog-Aid into the recycle-bin at full force, sending it completely through the wall.

Brad merely sat frozen, ashen-faced, after the second verbal assault he'd just endured that day from another of his best friends. He lightly drummed his fingertips on the tabletop for several minutes (the only sound audible in the now-dead-silent cafeteria), took several deep breaths and tried to recover from the latest onslaught.

"Oooooookay…" he finally decided. "From now on, _I'm stayin' outta this one!"_

* * *

Jenny stomped furiously down the now-empty hallways to the nearest exit, stepping through the doorway and outside. From the moment she left the cafeteria, her fury began to subside, replaced by waves of remorse for having once again lost her temper and over-reacted, this time at Brad.

She took a sharp turn at the corner of the school-building and headed for an isolated corner behind the school gym, next to the athletic-field bleachers. She sat down in the corner, her back resting against the cinderblock wall of the gym and raised her knees to her chest. She sat there, motionless for a moment or two, her arms folded upon her kneecaps, her forehead resting upon them…and softly, silently…began to cry.

_Ohhhhhhh, why did I do that? Why did I __do__ that?! _She asked herself in quiet dismay. _Why did I blow up at Brad like that…? He didn't mean anything by it… Crikey, what is __wrong__ with me these days?! If I keep this up, I'm not gonna have __any__ friends left!_

But Jenny just couldn't help herself; when Brad asked about her and Sheldon, it was as though he had touched a live circuit deep inside of her and shorted it out, and she just blew a fuse. For the truth was that, despite her protests to the contrary, she _did_ care about Sheldon, and more than she was willing to admit, not to herself, not to Brad, not to _anyone._ She felt sorry for him and she felt terrible about the way she'd treated him. She knew that she had really hurt him this time, hurt him physically, and—more importantly—hurt him deeply inside. And she knew that nothing would ever be right between them—or within herself—until she had spoken to him, apologized and made up with him.

Moreover, she couldn't bear for _anyone_ else to know the truth about what she'd done to Sheldon, not even Brad; she was much too ashamed. Telling her creator about it that morning was enough of an ordeal; but if Brad ever knew the story of her actions on that terrible day, she just knew—she _knew,_ deep down inside of herself_—_that he would never ever look at her the same way again…

_I wonder if Sheldon ever will…?_ She wondered, sadly.

She sat there, alone, softly weeping for the remainder of the lunch hour.

* * *

Sheldon softly closed the last of his textbooks, and carefully filed away the pages of filled-in notebook-paper and exercise-papers into the appropriate sections of his binder, then leaned back in his chair and stretched. Somehow, the activity of doing his homework for the past three-quarters of an hour in the cool, quiet solitude of the school library had helped to soothe his nerves and take his mind off his troubles for at least a little while, and he felt much better now; more relaxed and in slightly better spirits; almost back to his old normal self, in fact. He glanced up at the clock. A few minutes remained before the warning-bell was due to ring, signaling the end of lunch period. _A few minutes in which to do some free-reading, just for fun,_ he thought_._

He rose from the table and walked quietly along the bookshelves lining the library walls, looking over the rows and rows of books. He wasn't really looking for anything in particular; he was just idly browsing, in the hope of spotting something that might hold his interest for a few minutes of reading.

The kindly school librarian glanced up from her desk, and Sheldon noticed the movement in the periphery of his vision. "I'm just looking for something to read, Ms. Von Silver," he whispered. The librarian smiled, then lowered her eyes back to the papers on her desk, resuming her work. Sheldon was a good boy, she thought; quiet, well-mannered, never caused trouble, and was always very careful about putting the books away in their proper locations when he was finished with them. Even though the library was normally closed during lunch-hour, Ms. Von Silver frequently allowed Sheldon to spend the time in there, to do his homework, or some extra-credit work, or research for his various hobbies, or even just recreational reading.

_What harm could it do?_ She thought.

As Sheldon scanned the bookshelves, his eyes fell upon the _Encyclopedia Galactica,_ a fun little book he sometimes liked to read, as it contained such a wide variety of curious and interesting facts. He pulled it from the shelf, carried it over to the table where he'd been seated, sat down with it and opened it at random. Purely by chance, he happened to open the book at the letter 'I'. _As good a place to start as any,_ Sheldon thought as he began scanning through its pages, browsing through the headings of the various subjects. He turned the pages idly, paying little attention to the information contained under the headings; he was merely passing time, before he'd once again have to go out and face the harsh, cruel, dog-eat-dog world of high school...

After scanning several pages, he came upon a heading for an article about something called _'imprinting'_, and it piqued his curiosity. _Hmm, I wonder what this is?_ He thought, as he began to read, wondering if perhaps it might contain some useful information about the imprinting of microcircuits or the coding of nanotechnology or some other, similar subject related to his interests and hobbies.

But as he read, he was quite surprised—and puzzled, in fact—to discover that the article had nothing to do with anything technologically-related at all; instead, it had to do with behavioral psychology. He read:

_Imprinting – n. Term used in psychology and ethology. Any kind of phase-sensitive learning, occurring at a particular age or life stage; rapid, and independent of consequences of behavior. Used to describe situations in which an animal or person learns the characteristics of some stimulus, which is therefore said to be "imprinted" onto the subject. _

_Huh! Weird…_ Sheldon thought. Though he had no interest in psychology whatsoever, let alone behavioral psychology, there was nevertheless something about the subject which compelled him to read further:

_The best-known form of imprinting is filial imprinting, in which a young animal acquires several of its behavioral characteristics from its parent. It is most obvious in nidifugous birds, which imprint on their parents and then follow them around. Filial imprinting is not restricted to non-human animals that are able to follow their parents, however. Loosely related to __Attachment Theory__._

Sheldon read further, exploring the subject in greater detail, then looked up and away from the page, reflecting upon what he'd read. He recalled having heard something about the concept in one of his biology classes, in which the teacher explained the behavior of newly-hatched baby birds, such as ducks or geese, which become attached to the first large object they see, usually the mother bird, following it around everywhere, ignoring other, similarly sized and shaped objects nearby, including other birds. It's not that there's anything particularly special or unique about the mother bird, so far as the baby birds are concerned, the teacher explained; it's simply _there,_ that's all: the first large object they happen to see, and they form an attachment to it, paying little or no attention to anything else. He remembered the teacher going on to explain other cases and examples, one of which involved goslings becoming 'imprinted' on a farmer's rubber boots, following the farmer around everywhere he went, just as though his boots were the goslings' mother…

_In a way,_ he thought,_ I guess maybe it's kinda like the bond Jenny has with Dr. Wakeman. It's not just because Dr. Wakeman created her; it's also maybe because Dr. Wakeman was the first human being that Jenny ever saw and had any contact with…_

He speculated upon that thought further, expanding on it. _Maybe it's also why she likes Brad and Tuck so much… It's not 'cuz there's anything special about them; it's just that they were the second and third human beings she saw and had any contact with. Brad just happened to be the first human teenager she ever met, and Tuck happened to be the first human kid she ever met. She just 'imprinted' on them and became 'attached' to them, just like she 'imprinted' on her mom; the same way baby birds 'imprint' on the mother bird. They just happened to be there in the right place at the right time, that's all. If I'd been there instead of Brad, then she'd have imprinted on me, but I wasn't, so she didn't… Because she saw Brad first, he'll __always__ be her special friend, while I'll never be anything more to her than just a—a __nothing__…! A nothing and a nuisance!_

He sobbed as the full implications of the thought sank in, as he realized, at long last, a possible explanation for why nothing he ever did or would ever do—or ever _could_ have done—would have made the slightest difference, so far as Jenny's opinion of him was concerned. If the principle of 'imprinting' really truly were the explanation here, then nothing would ever have changed Jenny's perceptions and impressions formed as a result of those first initial contacts with human beings, in which case, nothing could or would ever cause her to regard Sheldon as a true "friend," let alone as anything more than that.

Or perhaps he was overcomplicating things, over-thinking them, the way he sometimes did. Perhaps the explanation—if there even was one—was something much simpler. Perhaps it was simply that Jenny just plain didn't like him, and never would, just like everyone else in school. _That_ was entirely possible, too…

_Or maybe she's just not capable of really 'liking' __anyone__, in the true, 'human' sense, let alone 'loving' them!_ He thought with a shudder. He couldn't entirely dismiss _that_ possibility either, however unpleasant it might be…

But in the end, it didn't matter. It made no difference. Either way, the end-result was exactly the same: Jenny just plain didn't like him and never would, no matter what. And nothing would ever change that. Regardless of the reasons for it, Sheldon knew that he was destined never to be really close to Jenny, never to be "special" to her in any meaningful way, the way those she truly cared about were. No, he was forever doomed to be outside of her 'inner circle.' Outside…and unwanted…forever. Somehow, he'd always known it, felt it, in his inmost heart of hearts. After all, it was clearly demonstrated by Jenny's exclusion of him on Cluster Prime and afterward. And now, he knew it for an absolute certainty, for now he knew a possible explanation of why… He had even read it for himself…

And even as he thought this, he was struck by an even more-disturbing thought:

_In a weird, warped kind of way,_ he thought with a shudder, _maybe this 'imprinting' stuff is also why __I__ got so stuck on Jenny too! Maybe I just got 'imprinted' and 'attached' to her much the same way as she got 'imprinted' and 'attached' to Dr. Wakeman, Brad and Tuck. Only in my case, it was 'cuz Jenny was the first girl who was ever kind to me, that one time—that __one__ time!—when she stood up for me and defended me against those bullies in shop-class… Of course! That's all it was; I just 'imprinted' on her and got attached to her 'cuz of that… So in that weird kind of way, there's not much difference between me following Jenny around and a stupid baby duck following a mother duck around…!_

For a brief moment, his mind flashed on a mental picture of himself as a baby duck waddling around the school grounds, following behind a large, blue-and-white robotic duck, and his face felt hot as he flushed in silent embarrassment. _No wonder all the other kids have been laughing at me all this time!_ He thought, as he now realized, as if for the first time, just how ludicrous a sight he must have appeared to others, and he felt like an even _bigger_ fool than ever. And he felt even _more_ foolish for not having realized it sooner.

All this time, Sheldon really truly believed that it was genuine love he felt for Jenny, and that, as a result, it was only a matter of time before he could somehow persuade her to love him in return. But now, for the first time in his life, he began have serious doubts about that. He began to wonder if perhaps it really _wasn't_ 'love' that he felt for her after all, but rather something much simpler, more basic, primitive and even mechanistic in nature; namely, that he had simply 'imprinted' on her, and had become attached to her, just as he'd read, and for no other reason than that one single act of kindness she'd once shown him so long ago.

And even then, he reminded himself, that one act of kindness had been motivated solely by her own self-interest, rather than out of any concern for him as a person—after all, she had simply wanted him to repair her arm for her, nothing more. _And,_ he bitterly reflected, that one act of kindness had been far outweighed and cancelled-out by her heartless treatment of him later on...

With a start, Sheldon suddenly became aware of himself and his own thoughts at that moment, and he slapped his forehead in silent, helpless frustration. _There you go again, you idiot, thinking about __her__!_ He silently berated himself._ You __said__ you weren't going to think about her anymore…and yet, here you are again, __thinking__ about her! Stupid, stupid, __stupid__!_ _You're so __stupid__! You __idiot__! _

Slowly, he lowered his head to the tabletop, burying his face in his folded arms, as he released a long, mournful moan in helpless frustration, at himself, at his own weakness, and the utter, complete futility of it all…_ It's all so terribly, terribly __hopeless__!_ He thought in silent, solitary misery.

"Mr. Lee…? Mr. Lee…? Are you all right back there?" a soft, feminine voice called out to him in the silence of the library.

Sheldon's eyes snapped open and he looked up to see Ms. Von Silver, watching him from her desk, a look of concern written upon her face.

"I'm—I'm all right, Ms. Von Silver," Sheldon said, wiping his eyes. "I'm—I'm fine… Thanks for asking."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You don't look so good. Would you like me to call the school nurse?"

Sheldon shook his head. "No, thanks. Like I said…I'm fine…" his voice quavered as he spoke the words, and his hands trembled as he closed the book and pushed it away from him, as though it were diseased.

"Well…all right, if you say so. But perhaps you should see the nurse anyway. You could be coming down with something without even realizing it."

"Yeah…yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe I'll do that. Thanks…." He rose unsteadily to his feet, gathered his binder and textbooks and walked over to the book-return bin, dropping the _Encyclopedia Galactica_ inside. "Lunch-hour's nearly over anyway. Thanks again for letting me study in here, Ms. Von Silver."

"My pleasure, Mr. Lee."

Sheldon's legs felt as though they had been transformed into Jell-O as he stepped through the library-doors and out into the hallway.

* * *

The first warning-bell rang, signaling the end of lunch-period, and slowly…reluctantly…Jenny rose to her feet, struggling to regain both her composure and her control over her emotions.

_Okay…okay…calm down, Jenny… calm down…get ahold of yourself…_ she silently soothed herself as she wiped her eyes. _Settle down… Get it together… Don't let anybody see you like this…_ She struggled to relax, almost wishing that she could breathe, so that she could start taking deep breaths, as she'd often seen others do in similar situations, when they needed to calm down and relax.

Instead, she focused her full conscious attention onto her emotional regulatory systems, _willing_ them to balance and stabilize, as she'd been able to do early that morning, following the agonizing confession she'd made to her creator. She remained motionless for countless seconds in silent concentration, focusing on the task of stabilizing her systems, watching intently the scroll-bar at the edge of her consciousness as it reported the progress of her emotional state:

…_70% stability achieved; estimated time to full stability: 2 minutes…75% stability achieved; estimated time to full stability: 110 seconds…80% stability achieved; estimated time to full stability: 100 seconds…_

And so it went. At last, a tiny green indicator appeared at the edge of her consciousness, with the following message: _100% stability achieved on all emotional systems and sub-programs. Proceed? Y/N_

_Okay…__now__ I'm ready to face the world!_ She thought as she turned on her heel and strode purposefully back to the school-entrance and on to her next class, vowing to keep her emotions under control from then on, come what may, and not let anything or anyone else upset her for the rest of the day.

_Self-control, Jenny; self-control!_ She coached herself._ Remember what Mom said! You __have__ to learn self-control! _

With that resolve now firmly in mind, she rededicated herself to the task of finding Sheldon and making up with him no matter what, vowing to let _nothing_ stand in her way. At that point, nothing else mattered to her; all she wanted to do was to simply get the whole miserable, sorry business over with, put it behind her once and for all and be _done_ with it. She would also, of course, apologize to Brad later on, for the way she'd yelled at him during lunchtime; but…that would have to wait for now. _One apology at a time!_ She thought.

And so, for the remaining hours of the school day, Jenny began systematically searching and scanning the hallways and classrooms for Sheldon as she made her way from class to class. But time and again as she searched, she saw no sign of him other than an occasional brief glimpse in the distance of a short, dark-haired figure in a maroon hoodie, an elusive figure that would invariably vanish almost as quickly as she'd spotted him, like a Will o' the Wisp in a dense forest…

"Sheldon! Hey, Sheldon! Wait up! Wait! I just want to talk to you for a second! Wait!" she would call out as she ran after him; but, as he had done many times before, he would invariably turn to see who'd called him, then immediately duck his head down and scurry away, quickly losing himself in the crowd, or disappear around a corner, down a side-corridor or down a stairway before Jenny could reach him.

The third time this happened, Jenny began to get more than a bit annoyed. _Oh, this is ridiculous!_ She thought as she activated her jets, lifting herself off the ground and flying after him down the hallway, several feet above the heads of the other students.

"_No flying in the hallways!"_ the sour, smarmy hall-monitor barked out at her.

She sighed in exasperation, and snuffed out her jets, dropping to the ground and landing heavily on her feet. She looked around in all directions, but by then, Sheldon had once again disappeared into the milling crowd. She tried scanning the hallways, using her X-ray vision and her other detection equipment, but the thick, reinforced concrete walls (now sturdily rebuilt after Jenny's numerous past acts of super-heroics) and the wall-to-wall crowd of students made it virtually impossible for her sensors to track and locate her friend. The concrete hallway acted as a gigantic echo-chamber to her sensors, reflecting her own tracking signals back to her, mixed in with the jumbled signals of the other students in the crowd, resulting in a dizzying, disorienting cacophony of garbled, indecipherable signals and digital white noise, which overwhelmed and jammed her sensors, rendering them virtually useless when it came to tracking and locating one individual person out of scores. For Jenny, it was like trying to find a needle in a field of haystacks enclosed inside a concrete bunker composed of three-foot-thick cinderblock walls.

Jenny's already-shortened patience began to run out as her frustration grew, and she had to keep reminding herself not to lose her temper yet again, as that had caused so much of her current troubles in the first place.

She also became aware of something else too, for the very first time in her life: Namely, that it wasn't such a nice feeling to be _avoided_ by someone! Much as she herself had tended to avoid Sheldon, back when they'd first met, she soberly reflected…

_This is __ridiculous__!_ She silently exclaimed again, with growing irritation. _All I want to do is talk to him! What the heck is he so afraid of, anyway?!_ But even as she thought this, she remembered. _He's afraid of some maniac chasing him around with laser-cannons, that's what!_ She reminded herself reproachfully.

_All right, Jenny…stay calm…stay cool…_ she coached herself. _I just need to find him, that's all; just find him and talk to him for maybe five seconds. Just five seconds, that's all, and I'll say 'I'm sorry, Sheldon,' he'll forgive me, and then we can go back to being friends again. Then that'll be that, and everything'll be back to normal… _

But after her umpteenth attempt to track down Sheldon in the hallways and classrooms had failed, Jenny shook her head resignedly, slowly turned and walked back to her locker. As she reached it and opened it however, a new idea occurred to her. _Well, there's one place he's gotta show up eventually, and that's his locker!_ she thought. _Our lockers are right next to each other, so he's bound to turn up here sooner or later!_

She placed some books and a few personal items inside her locker, retrieved some others, then closed it and remained there for a few minutes longer before the bell rang, waiting…and watching. She looked around her, to her left and her right, waiting. _Just a quick, 'I'm sorry, Sheldon!_' she thought, hopefully. _That's all it'll take… Two seconds. That's all… Just a quick 'I'm sorry' I'll say, and then he'll say, 'Oh, that's okay, Jenny! Forget it," with that big stupid grin on his face, just like he always has, and then it'll all be over and done with, and we can be friends again… Then everything can get back to normal…!_

She waited…and waited…

* * *

Sheldon turned a sharp corner and quickened his pace, hurrying to make it to his next class. All this 'Jenny-avoidance' was taking a serious toll on his between-classes time, and he constantly felt as though he were perpetually running late and had to hurry to make up for lost time. Just as he rounded the corner however, he once again spotted the familiar six-and-a-half-foot tall, gleaming blue and white figure of Jenny Wakeman down towards the far end of the hall, and he froze in his tracks. _Oh, no!_ he thought as he broke out in a cold sweat and quickly ducked back behind the corner. _Not again! There she is again! _He slowly craned his neck out, cautiously peering at her from behind the corner. It was obvious that Jenny was waiting for someone, and Sheldon had a sick feeling he knew _exactly_ who she was waiting for. She stood immovably in one spot near her locker as though rooted to the ground, looking to her left…then to her right, scanning the hallways like a grim-faced searchlight, evidently looking for someone…

_She's waiting for me!_ he thought anxiously as he watched._ She's been after me all afternoon and now here she is again! I bet she's still angry at me and wants to rough me up some more! _

Sheldon began to tremble, and felt an emptiness in his stomach as he watched her. He'd been dodging Jenny this way all afternoon, and the longer it went on, the worse it seemed to get. Each time he saw her was yet-another painful reminder, not only of the friendship that he now knew he was destined never to enjoy with her, but also of her terrible betrayal and attack upon him. Added to this was now a growing _fear_ as well.

As difficult as the past two weeks had been for Sheldon, today was definitely the worst day of all. It didn't take him long to catch on to the fact that Jenny was apparently _after_ him, for who-knew-what reason. At first, he thought it was only his imagination, that he was just being paranoid, but it soon became more and more obvious that she was definitely _gunning_ for him, there was no question about that. She'd been chasing him _everywhere,_ all over school, all afternoon, and he had just narrowly escaped from her each time.

Even the way she'd called out after him as she had, the tone of voice she'd used—Sheldon knew _exactly_ what that meant! He _knew_! He'd heard that exact same _'C'mere, I wanna talk to you!'_ tone used at least a million times in his life from bullies, usually just before they were about to pound him into hamburger. He never before imagined that he would now be hearing it coming from Jenny…but now that he thought about it, under the circumstances, after the way she'd treated him, he supposed he really shouldn't be surprised…

But after a lifetime of dealing with bullies, Sheldon had become quite skilled at dodging, avoiding and narrowly escaping from them when necessary. By now, he knew all the best hiding-places in every nook and cranny of the entire school, where he could quickly duck and hide at a moment's notice when necessary, able to disappear almost Ninja-like in an instant when the need arose. He never imagined that he would ever need this skill in dealing with Jenny…but now, he apparently _did!_ Fortunately for Sheldon however, Jenny's size and appearance made her easy to spot from a distance, and so he always spotted her from a long way off before she saw him, thereby providing him with just enough time to safely duck out of sight.

He still couldn't imagine what Jenny's reason was for chasing him, though; nor could he imagine what she was liable to do to him once she finally caught up with him…but he just _knew_ that it couldn't be good, _whatever_ it was…

He wasn't so much afraid of what Jenny might do to him physically—he doubted that she would attack him again in full view of witnesses—but on the other hand, he wasn't quite sure _what_ she was liable to do, either. Mostly, he guessed he was afraid of what she was liable to _say_ to him, which—given his present emotional state—could be even more devastating than anything physical. Even though he knew deep down that making cruel, hurtful remarks really wasn't Jenny's style—it was more the kind of thing the Crust Cousins or Pteresa might do—nevertheless, he wasn't taking any chances. He knew _something_ bad was coming, so he played it safe and kept his distance.

_Maybe she's waiting for me to show up so she can accuse me of 'stalking' her again or whatever!_ He thought._ Geez, I'm leaving her alone! I'm staying as far away from her as I possibly can! Isn't that enough? What the heck more does she want from me?! Or maybe that's it! Maybe she's mad at me for avoiding her! She's liable to say I'm giving her the cold shoulder or something and is mad at me 'cuz of that! Who the heck knows? Who knows what goes on inside that tin head of hers? Or maybe she wants to give me 'The Speech!' I bet that's it! I can hear it now! 'Sheldon, stay away from me!' she'll say. 'Don't ever come near me or bother me again or I'll hurt you! We're not friends, we're enemies! I don't want you anywhere near me! Go away, Sheldon! Go away and leave me alone! Forever!' she'll say…_

Sheldon winced as he could easily imagine her speaking the dreaded words, peppered throughout, no doubt, with more than a few mean remarks, threats and personal insults. Evidently, it wasn't enough that she'd attacked him physically; no, apparently, she wouldn't be satisfied until she'd utterly demolished him in spirit as well. He knew the dreaded words were coming; it was only a matter of time. He knew she was bound to say them to him eventually, and so far he'd managed to rob her of the opportunity to further wound him by avoiding her first; at least that way, he could retain some small shred of dignity and self-respect. So far, he'd been successful at this, as difficult as it was. But it was getting tougher and tougher all the time, and today was the toughest of all. And now…here she was, _waiting_ for him at his locker!

_Ohhhhhhhh, what have I ever done in my whole life to make her __hate__ me so?!_ He asked himself in silent dismay.

In addition to the renewed combination of heartache, anxiety and now _fear_ that he felt at repeatedly seeing Jenny while simultaneously trying to avoid her, Sheldon also felt a kind of weary exhaustion, of all that he'd been through for her, all the sacrifices he'd made on her behalf, all the humiliation he'd endured in his futile pursuit of her…and all for nothing. He was, by now, quite simply _tired…_ Tired of expending so much mental, physical and emotional energy on her in one way or another and getting little or nothing in return; tired of dealing with _her…_ Now, more than ever before, he simply wanted to _let go… _Let _her_ go and try to _forget…_

_Why can't she leave me alone, like I'm leaving __her__ alone? Isn't that what she wanted?!_

He ducked back behind the corner, unable to bear looking at her for even a moment longer; it was too painful, too heartbreaking…and too nerve-wracking. He patiently waited until the last warning bell sounded, then cautiously craned his head around the corner once more to take another peek down the hall. He watched as Jenny, now apparently tired of waiting, turned and walked away to her next class, with an air of exasperation that was clearly evident even from this distance.

_Now!_ Sheldon thought, as he made a quick dash to his locker, hastily unlocking it with trembling fingers, throwing his books inside, blindly grabbing some others, and slamming it shut again. He then turned on his heels and sprinted down the hall at breakneck speed to his next class, knocking down the smarmy hall-monitor on the way…

Just before the classroom door closed behind her, Jenny heard the unmistakable sound of a locker-door slamming from the hallway. She pushed the classroom door back open and looked down the now-nearly-empty hallway to see Sheldon making a mad dash in the opposite direction.

_No doubt about it now!_ Jenny thought. _He __is__ scared of me! He's absolutely __terrified__ of me now!_ That thought, more than any other, she suddenly realized, saddened her deeply; far more deeply than she ever could have imagined.

She was just about to charge after him, when a low-pitched, gravely voice suddenly growled ominously from immediately behind her:

"Ms. Wakeman!" the deep, sonorous voice rumbled out like rolling thunder.

"Yes, Ms. Phungissfut…?" Jenny replied meekly, turning around to look down upon the scowling face of the diminutive-yet-intimidating teacher.

"If…you would be so kind…as to take your seat…" the pint-sized butterball said sarcastically, arms folded, foot tapping impatiently. "We may begin class! _IF__…"_ Ice-age-long pause. "You have no other plans for the afternoon, that is!"

Jenny winced as ripples of snickers and giggles echoed throughout the classroom. "Yes, Ms. Phungissfut," she replied in a tiny, utterly defeated voice, as she reluctantly closed the door and stepped away, slinking down the aisle to take her seat at her desk. _Oh, brother!_ She thought in weary disgust as she sat down. _This day just keeps getting better and better!_

* * *

The rest of the afternoon continued in similar fashion, with Jenny repeatedly searching in vain for Sheldon during the few brief minutes between classes, while he repeatedly and successfully eluded her each time, losing himself in the crowds and the labyrinthine hallways. With fewer and fewer classes remaining for the day, Jenny knew that time was running out, and little by little, her patience dwindled, replaced by growing levels of frustration.

Finally, the next-to-last class of the day was Fourth Dimensional Calculus, one of Sheldon's favorite subjects, and one of the few that he and Jenny shared that semester. _He's got to show up here!_ Jenny thought as she took her usual seat in the classroom. _He's __never__ missed this class. Ever! He's __bound__ to show up! And when he does, I'll just walk over to him real quick, talk to him for maybe a minute or two, tell him I'm sorry, and then we can be friends again and forget all about this whole stupid mess!_

She waited…and waited, staring at Sheldon's desk, a few rows away from hers. It remained empty.

* * *

_Only two more classes to get through for today,_ Sheldon thought as he scurried down the hallway, his head hunched between his shoulders, his eyes darting nervously about, ever on the alert for Jenny. _Just Calculus, then that dumb stupid gym-class!_ He thought._ And then I'm done for the day and I can go home, crawl into bed and forget that this whole entire stupid crummy rotten week ever happened!_

Fortunately, the next class, Fourth Dimensional Calculus, was a cinch for Sheldon, one that he easily breezed right through without even breaking a sweat, and he normally looked forward to it. And, at least in the past anyway, it was one of his favorite classes for another reason as well: It was one of the few that he shared with Jenny, so it allowed him more time to spend near her.

But…that was all in the past. Now, _any_ class shared with Jenny was nothing but a source of heartache to him; and after an entire afternoon spent repeatedly dodging and hiding from her in fear, Sheldon now began to get cold feet about entering a classroom for the very first time in his life. The closer he got to the classroom-doorway, the more reluctant, and even frightened he became to step inside. He just _knew_ that once Jenny got within speaking-range of him, she was going to say or do something mean and hurtful to him; he was _sure_ of it, he could _feel_ it, clear down to the marrow of his bones.

So by the time he reached the doorway, Sheldon suddenly realized that he just couldn't go through with it. He couldn't even set one foot inside the threshold. He just couldn't face another moment of being in such close proximity to his former—though eternally unrequited—love, now the source of so much of his current heartache, anxiety, and now, even a growing _fear_ as well. Though he'd managed to get through the past two weeks well enough, all the sadness, anxiety, pain, embarrassment, mounting fear and emotional torment that he'd experienced up to now seemed to well up inside him at the last moment, boiling over.

Without another moment's thought, he suddenly turned around and began walking briskly away from the classroom door.

* * *

Jenny glanced up at the clock as the minutes ticked by. _Where the heck is he…?_ She wondered anxiously, until at last, the final warning-bell sounded, and the teacher, Mr. Bustoff, began calling the roll.

He called out the students' names, one by one, each student replying, "Here." But when he came to Sheldon's name, there was no reply. Bustoff waited, called out Sheldon's name one more time, then shrugged and marked him 'absent' for the day, the first time that had ever happened in the entire history of the school.

_Okay, now I'm getting worried!_ Jenny thought. _Sheldon has __never__ missed Fourth Dimensional Calculus before!_

* * *

All was quiet for about ten minutes, when the door to the custodian's utility-closet slowly creaked open and Sheldon's head peered out. He looked to his left…then to his right. The halls were empty.

_Okay, the coast is clear!_ He thought, as he cautiously stepped out of the closet, careful not to knock over the brooms and mops in the process, and softly closed the door behind him. _Now…to sneak out...!_

Quickly and quietly, Sheldon slinked down the hallways, clinging close to the walls, narrowly avoiding detection by teachers and other school personnel lingering here and there, as he slowly, carefully made his way to the nearest exit.

The ability to slip undetected down school hallways in this manner, he suddenly realized, was the only instance in which his secret-agent training and skills had come in useful since this whole miserable business had gotten started._ At least it's done me __some__ good!_ He thought, grimly.

Even though he hated the idea of cutting school—and he was sure he'd catch hell for it later on from his mom—right now, he felt that he had no choice. If he hung around any longer, he was sure to run into Jenny, and he just couldn't face that right now; emotionally, he just wasn't up to it. Even though he knew he'd probably have to face her eventually, he just couldn't do it today. Not today, not this week… _Maybe not ever_…he thought briefly. Monday morning would take care of itself, but now…it would be just too painful …

At last, he made it to the exit, and—as quietly as he could manage—gently pushed on the bar, silently opening the door just wide enough for him to slip through—_Good thing I'm so skinny!_ he thought with a silent, humorless grin—and just as silently, closing the door behind him.

Once outside, he breathed a deep sigh of relief; then set out on the long walk home alone...

* * *

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Jenny leapt from her seat and bolted through the door and out into the hallways, once again resuming her search. By now, she was getting desperate. She just wanted to _settle_ this whole business with Sheldon once and for all and get it _over_ with. But his ongoing avoidance of her, coupled with her own inability to find him, continued to vex her, both worrying and frustrating her at the same time.

_He's gotta be around here someplace!_ She thought as she repeatedly scanned the milling throng of students lining the hallways wall-to-wall, vigilant for even the briefest glimpse of the diminutive figure in the maroon hoodie.

The crowds began to thin, as the students proceeded on their respective paths to their final class of the day. Just then, Jenny's face lit up as she remembered a vital clue as to Sheldon's whereabouts.

_That gym-class! _She thought, excitedly._ That stupid gym-class! That he hates so much! That he complains about constantly! Of course! __That's__ where he's got to be! The stupid gym-class!_

And so, with this hopeful new objective in mind, Jenny zoomed through the hallways at hyperspeed, to the nearest exit and outside to the school gymnasium. Once she reached the gym-doorway, she peeked inside and saw a group of boys in athletic wear lining up on the opposite side, waiting for the gym-teacher to give them instructions.

Sheldon was not among them.

Crestfallen, Jenny shook her head, then turned and blasted off with her rocket-jets. She soared high into the sky and began searching all over the school grounds, hoping on the off-chance that, not being found anywhere _inside_ the school-building, Sheldon could conceivably be found somewhere on the _outside._

_He's got to be around here somewhere!_ She repeated to herself in growing desperation as though it were a mantra. _He's __got__ to be!_

In blasting off however, she failed to hear the final warning-bell ring. And by the time she was midway through her second sweep-around of the school-grounds, all the students had taken their seats inside the classrooms, and the class-sessions had begun.

So absorbed was Jenny in her search that she failed to hear Vice-Principal Razinski calling out to her from the ground below, until at last, with the help of a bullhorn he'd borrowed from the football-coach, he bellowed out to her:

**"_MS. WAKEMAN!"_** the vice-principal's greatly-amplified voice boomed out. **_"JUST WHAT ON EARTH—OR ABOVE THE EARTH—DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! NOW COME DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE AND REPORT TO CLASS IMMEDIATELY OR YOU WILL BE MARKED 'ABSENT' AND PUT ON DETENTION ALL NEXT WEEK! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!"_**

With a sigh, Jenny cut the power to her jets and descended to the ground, setting down gently beside the vice-principal.

"I'm sorry, Vice-Principal Razinski, but I was looking—"

"I'm not interested in your excuses, young lady! You know the rules! _'No recreational flying allowed over school grounds during school hours!'"_

"But I wasn't—"

"_And no exceptions!" _he barked out gruffly. "Now report to your class! Now! Unless you want me to call…your _mother!"_

Jenny's shoulders sagged, and she sighed, "Yes, sir…", slinking off to her class without another word.

_Could this day __possibly__ get any worse?!_ She wondered glumly.

* * *

Dr. Wakeman sat at the desk in her lab, narrowly scrutinizing the report of the diagnostic-test she'd performed on her robotic daughter early that morning. Her face was drawn and pale, her expression grim, as she turned the heavily notated and highlighted pages, occasionally adding more highlights to key sections, and penciling in additional notes in the margins as she read.

The report was long and complex, nearly seventy pages in length, and consisted of the most abstruse and highly convoluted data. It would've been enough of a challenge to read through in its entirety even once; but Dr. Wakeman had by now read through it several times, having spent the better part of the day studying it, reading and re-reading it, taking note of every last bit of data, to ensure that she hadn't missed anything or had failed to take even the tiniest detail into account in forming her hypothesis.

She had pored over the pages _so_ many times by now that she almost felt as though she had them memorized, and each time she read them, she hoped their contents might somehow reveal more-promising results. But no matter how many times she'd gone through the report, it still painted the same picture, and it was not a pretty one.

Although it was still far too early to draw any final conclusions, and Dr. Wakeman _never_ jumped to _any_ conclusions prematurely, she'd by now had sufficient time to study the report in detail as to begin forming some solid, more-informed theories to explain her robotic daughter's recent erratic behavior. It was also time for her to start considering all possible options and alternatives, including the most unpleasant ones.

When she finally reached the last page of the report, she set it down beside her computer and settled back in her chair with a heavy sigh. She then reached for the teacup she'd set down on the desk hours ago—now grown ice-cold—and took a sip, collecting her thoughts for the unenviable task that lay before her.

Her task would be neither easy nor pleasant, and she wasn't looking forward to it in the slightest. But it had to be done. For although Dr. Wakeman loved her robotic daughter dearly, as though she were part of her own flesh, there _were_ nevertheless times when she was forced to make the tough decision whether to be a good parent or a good scientist, and this was one of those times. Such occasions were fortunately rare, but that didn't make them any easier or more pleasant to deal with. And the decision she faced today was easily the most heartrending of all.

But…as always, in such situations, her choice was clear: She _had_ to be, first and foremost, a scientist, and that meant putting aside her emotions, her desires, her hopes and her wishes, and facing the facts directly, and dealing with them objectively and unemotionally—however difficult that might be. It also meant—occasionally—admitting one's mistakes and failures—even the _possibility_ of a mistake or failure—however painful _that_ might be.

_That's what science is all about, _she silently reminded herself. _You admit your mistakes, and you accept your failures with the same quiet grace as your successes. You learn from them and you move on._

All of which sounded well and good, of course, when one was discussing the results of a bacteria-culture in a Petri dish, or something similar; but this situation involved something quite different, something much more personal in nature. Though she strove to remain detached and coldly objective in her approach to the problem at hand, the fact was that Dr. Wakeman privately nursed growing fears that she could be facing another one of her failures, one that could easily prove to be the most devastating and heartbreaking one of her entire career.

She ardently hoped that she was wrong, that her fears would prove to be unfounded—after all, at this point, it was only the _possibility_ of a failure that she was considering. Still, she couldn't ignore that possibility. _Or_ its implications.

She finished the last of the cold tea and set the cup down, then turned her attention to her computer. She paused for several long moments, took a deep breath…and began typing:

_Notes summarizing results of diagnostic test performed on XJ-9 unit on morning Friday, April 27, 2074, following observed aberrant behavior of unit over two-week period from April 15—April 27. Observations made and diagnostic test performed by…_

Dr. Wakeman abruptly stopped typing, correcting herself before going further. _No…no…_ she silently reminded herself. _You must be a scientist first. You must remain objective. Purely objective. Keep it impersonal. Remember, this is for posterity…_ She mustered her willpower and resumed typing:

…_by_ _Dr. N. Wakeman, unit creator and operator._ She completed the sentence in objective form.

_Preliminary findings indicate apparent failure of conscience program to perform as designed within acceptable parameters during incident on afternoon of April 15, 2074, followed by similar, related periodic failures over subsequent two-week period following incident. Earlier working hypothesis that behavioral problems caused by a minor conflict or glitch in conscience program now ruled out; conflict in conscience program is apparently of much greater magnitude than previously believed, and could indicate presence of major flaws within design of conscience program itself. _

_Failure of conscience program indicated in three significant areas:_

_1) Failure to check and modify XJ-9 extreme emotional overreaction on April 15 incident, coupled with related failure of friend/enemy-recognition sub-program, resulting in unit's wholly unprovoked attack on human subject Sheldon L.;_

_2) Failure to override and correct subsequent overreaction of all related emotional sub-programs, resulting in apparent massive displacement of normal error-recognition and guilt reaction, accompanied by classic emotional and behavioral symptoms and patterns normally associated with displaced guilt, including repression, denial, irritability, increased hostility and defensiveness, all of which resulted in massive ongoing and escalating internal conflicts in conscience program and related emotional sub-programs. Symptoms observed and noted by unit operator;_

_3) Continued failure over two-week period to override and correct above-described displaced-guilt reactions, resulting in prolonged deviation from preferred normal error-recognition and conflict-resolution behavior. Normal error-recognition and conflict-resolution behavior patterns restored only after extensive, external persuasion by unit operator._

Dr. Wakeman settled back in her chair, releasing a heavy sigh and removed her glasses. She gently rubbed her eyes and the bridge of her nose, breathing deeply for several long minutes, struggling to maintain her calm, controlled composure. The most difficult part was still to come, and she was dreading it. After a time, she replaced her glasses, took another deep breath, and continued:

_Conscience program's failure to control XJ-9 behavior in above-described key areas, the unprovoked attack, coupled with related failure of friend/enemy-recognition sub-program, and subsequent prolonged failure to guide unit in error-recognition and conflict-resolution behavior indicates unsatisfactory performance of conscience program overall throughout this entire incident. _

_Currently awaiting final results of recommended conflict-resolution course of action. If unit successfully resolves conflict according to programming and verbal persuasion by unit operator, then follow-up tests will be conducted to verify and confirm results of successful outcome. If test results come back positive, then will conclude that conscience program has satisfactorily resolved conflict and that the problem has effectively corrected itself, in which case no further corrective action will be taken._

_If, however, unit fails to resolve conflict satisfactorily, then further, more extensive diagnostics tests will be performed and appropriate remedial and corrective measures will be implemented. If follow-up tests fail to indicate other specific causal factors, if all remedial and corrective measures fail to yield desirable results, and if conscience program continues to indicate similar, repeated failures over time in future, then consideration of worst-case scenario, described below, may be necessary as the last remaining option. _

Dr. Wakeman paused again, and despite the coldly clinical tone she strove for in the typing of her notes, her eyes began to well with tears as she pondered the implications of what she was about to write. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and forged ahead with the typing of the final, and most difficult portion of her notes:

_Worst-case scenario: If conscience program of XJ-9 unit fails to resolve conflict satisfactorily, if unit continues to exhibit similar failures over time, and if all diagnostic, remedial and corrective measures applied are unable to rectify the problem, then the possibility of fundamental flaws inherent in the design of the conscience program itself must be admitted, in which case…_

Here, Dr. Wakeman's fingers hesitated, trembling. She swallowed hard, steeled her resolve, and finished:

_In which case, then will have no alternative but the de-activation and abandonment of the XJ-9 project as another failed prototype. Useful data from unit will then be collected, collated, refined and improved for possible use in future prototypes. Work will commence on XJ-10 project shortly thereafter._

_Dr. N. Wakeman, unit operator,  
__Dated: Friday, April 27, 2074._

She removed her glasses and lowered her head, burying her face in her hands as she quietly wept.

_I just hope to heaven it doesn't come to that!_ She thought.

* * *

End Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7--Degrees of Separation

_Author's Note: Wow, it's hard to believe it's been over two months since the last chapter/update! Where does the time go? I really didn't intend to take that long to get this chapter posted (really, I didn't.) But it was a rather troublesome chapter to write, for some reason…_

_Anyway, once again, a great, big, humongazoid huggy-bunch thank-you to all the fans who continue to follow and enjoy the story! I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. Thank you one and all! And, as always, comments and feedback are welcome. Also, if you happen to know anyone who might enjoy reading this story, please feel free to pass along the URL for Chapter 1. (Hey, a little shameless self-promotion never hurt!)_

_In this chapter we see that often what we're looking for is where we least expect to find it…_

* * *

**Resolution**

A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic  
By Shvique

**Chapter 7—Degrees of Separation**

During the lonely walk home from school, Sheldon pondered his situation and his long-term prospects. _ Well,_ he thought. _I can't spend the rest of my life sneaking around hallways and cutting class. Maybe…maybe I should just drop out of Tremorton High altogether and do home school or something, like Jenny tried to do once…_ _Or maybe…maybe I could transfer out of here and go to Poly Tech instead… I always wanted to go there anyway… After all, Poly Tech's got such a great science and technology program… And I'll be graduating next year anyhow, so…if I don't go there now, I probably never will… I'm sure it'd probably be a cinch for me to get in... I've got the grades for it… I probably could've gone there a long time ago if I wanted to. The only reason I stayed here this long is 'cuz of Jenny… But now that she's…she's…_ He shuddered, unable to even finish the thought. _Anyway…there's nothing keeping me here anymore…nothing…_

_But transferring to Poly Tech's gonna be a tough sell to Mom, though…_ he thought._ However am I gonna explain it? Will it make any sense? 'Hey, Mom, I want to transfer to another school because a robot girl broke my heart!'_ He shook his head; the idea sounded ludicrous even to him. His mom would never buy it, and Sheldon could only imagine what she'd think of it—and of him—once she'd heard it…

_And Poly Tech is a heck of a long way away from here, too!_ He suddenly realized with a start. _Miles away! It's too far to commute up and back every day, that's for sure!_ He struggled to think of possible alternate plans._ But maybe…something could be worked out… I think Aunt Mitsui lives up near there… I __think__ she does, anyway… I'm not sure... If she does, then maybe Mom could somehow talk her into letting me stay with her during the school week and then I could come home on weekends and holidays or…something… Maybe something like that could be worked out…maybe… It'd be difficult, but maybe…just maybe…it could be done… _

But difficult or easy, he vowed, he _would_ find a way. One way or another, he _would_ somehow persuade his mom to let him transfer. He would have to. The alternative was…unthinkable. The prospect of continuing to go to Tremorton was simply too painful, too heartbreaking now for him to even contemplate.

His stomach growled loudly just then, and he suddenly regretted having skipped lunch that day.

_Ohhhhhh, I can't think any more on an empty stomach!_ He thought. _I'm gonna stop for a burger at Mezmer's!_

With that, he took a slight detour from his usual route home, heading toward the popular teen spot for a quick bite.

* * *

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day at Tremorton High. With the first sound of the clapper striking the bell, Jenny bolted from her chair and shot out of the classroom like a bullet fired from a gun. In a nanosecond, she was at her locker, flinging it open and throwing her textbooks and binder inside. She slammed it shut again and immediately fired up her rocket-jets.

_The heck with it!_ She decided. _I don't care if I __do__ get in trouble for flying in the hallways and over the school-grounds! This is an emergency! I __gotta__ find Sheldon!_

With that, she lifted off the ground and began rocketing through the hallways at high speed, zooming just above the other students' heads, clearing them by mere inches as they ducked this way and that to avoid her.

"_HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU IDIOT!"_ was one of the more-polite suggestions offered to her as she rocketed past them. Most of the comments offered, however, were less polite than this.

Just as she had been doing for much of the day, she began a systematic search for her friend all over the school. She checked the hallways, the classrooms, the computer-lab, the auditorium, and the meeting-rooms used by the various clubs and electives, but all without result. Sheldon could not be found in _any_ of them.

The very last place she checked was the school library. Quietly, she opened the door and stepped inside, quickly scanning the faces of the few students seated at the tables and desks, as they worked on their homework assignments and school-projects. She then began looking up and down the aisles between the rows and rows of bookshelves. But Sheldon wasn't in there, either.

She sighed, turned and was just about to head back out to the hallway, when the school librarian noticed her and spoke up. "May I help you, Ms. Wakeman?" she asked helpfully.

"It's—it's—" For a rare moment, Jenny found herself at a loss for words. "Well, to tell you the truth, Ms. Von Silver, I'm trying to find Sheldon Lee. It's very important. I've been looking all over for him, but I can't seem to find him _anywhere."_ She shook her head in frustration. "I—I don't suppose you've seen him today, have you?" She asked, fully expecting to be disappointed by the reply.

Ms. Von Silver paused thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. "Actually, I _have."_ She said. "He _was_ in here earlier today, in fact, around noon, doing his homework."

"He _was?"_ Jenny immediately perked up. "He was in _here? Today?_ Did you talk to him? Did he say anything? What did he say? How did he sound? How did he look to you? Did he look okay? Did he look angry? Did he look scared? Did he look upset? Did he look—" Jenny blurted out her queries in rapid-fire, 500-words-per-minute delivery, before abruptly stopping herself from running on, to allow the librarian a chance to respond.

"Well, to tell you the truth, Ms. Wakeman, he didn't look very well at all. Not at _all."_

"He didn't…?" Immediately, Jenny's all-too-brief bright mood began to sink back into one of unease and concern.

"No. As a matter of fact, he looked _terrible;_ as though he might be coming down with something. Flu, perhaps."

_Oh, no!_ Jenny thought.

"I suggested that he should go and see the school nurse. Perhaps you might check with her. She might have sent him home early."

"Oh…okay, Ms. Von Silver; thanks! Thanks a lot!" Jenny smiled.

"My pleasure, Ms. Wakeman," the librarian replied; but the words had barely escaped her lips before Jenny had vanished through the door and back out into the hallway in a hypersonic blue/white blur.

The shock-wave from Jenny's sudden departure struck Ms. Von Silver's desk with a gust like a miniature cyclone, blowing all the carefully-arranged papers clear off the desktop and scattering them all over the floor. The librarian clicked her tongue and shook her head in subdued annoyance as she surveyed the mess. Then, with endless, enduring patience, she began slowly, methodically picking up the papers and re-stacking them back upon her desk, one by one, just as neatly and tidily as they had been before. Clearly, she had gone through this sort of thing many, many times before, and was quite used to it by now.

_Teenagers!_ She thought with a bemused smile. _So full of youthful energy and enthusiasm!_

* * *

_Okay…okay…so maybe he's sick or something, that's all…_ Jenny thought as she zoomed down the hall to the school nurse's office._ Of course…! That's all it is! He probably just got the flu or something and they sent him home! _

In moments, she arrived at the nurse's office, gently opened the door and stepped inside. "Excuse me, Ms. Doroodian?" she asked quietly.

"Yes….?" The petite, dark-haired young woman seated behind the desk replied in a soft, melodious voice.

_Oh boy, how do I put this without sounding like I'm being nosy?_ Jenny wondered. "Um…has Sheldon Lee been by here to see you today? I heard that he might not have been feeling well and that he might've stopped by your office. Have you seen him?"

The nurse seemed to hesitate, so Jenny hastened to add, "It's important, Ms. Doroodian; _very_ important I find him."

"Well, I haven't seen Sheldon Lee today, Ms. Wakeman." She checked some paperwork on her desk, as though to confirm her response. "No. No, he hasn't been by this office today. I'm sorry."

_Ohhhhhh, cripes!_ Jenny thought, with renewed disappointment._ So much for __that__ theory!_ "Oh….okay…" she said simply. "Thanks anyway, Ms. Doroodian."

"My pleasure, Ms. Wakeman."

Once again, Jenny bolted through the door, only now at an even _higher_ rate of speed. Vaguely, she had an impression of distant voices calling out to her from far behind, once again reminding her of the school's 'no-flying-in-the-hallways' rule—but she ignored them, focusing exclusively on her search instead.

She made one final hyperspeed pass of the entire interior of the school, re-checking every last nook and cranny of every last hallway, classroom, and meeting-room, just to make absolutely sure that she hadn't missed anything. When she was at last satisfied that Sheldon was nowhere inside the building, she decided that the next, most-logical place to start looking was the _outside._

She zoomed toward the main entrance and in moments, she was outdoors and soaring high above the rooftop. By now, all the students had left the building and had begun heading home. With the crowd of students now outdoors and dispersing, it made Jenny's task of trying to locate Sheldon among their number considerably easier than it had been when she was trying to find him indoors. Outside, she was able to fly high above the crowd, giving her a perfect bird's-eye-view, which allowed her to focus on, scan, and rule out each individual in the crowd, one at a time, and with far greater speed and accuracy than ever would have been possible indoors.

Not that it made any difference. Sheldon was nowhere to be found in the milling crowd.

With an exasperated sigh, Jenny circled back to make one final pass of the entire school grounds, checking the picnic-tables, the basketball-court, the pool area and even the athletic field and the bleachers, but all without result.

After countless minutes spent in this fruitless endeavor, Jenny had to face the fact that Sheldon was just plain _gone._ She had no idea where he could be…but he was definitely nowhere in the vicinity of the school, either on the inside or out.

_Okay…okay…so he's not here,_ she thought, struggling to evaluate the situation calmly and unemotionally._ He hasn't been to see the school nurse, so he couldn't have been __too__ sick… At least…I don't __think__ he was… I __hope__ he wasn't…! So the last time anyone other than me saw him for sure was at noon in the Library…_ She shook her head, momentarily at a loss. _Crikey, he could be __anywhere__ by now!_

With no other immediate idea occurring to her, Jenny decided to check Sheldon's house. _He probably just went home, that's all… _ she thought. _For whatever reason… Maybe he felt so rotten that he didn't even bother stopping at the nurse's office and just went home… Sure! That's got to be it… He just went home, that's all… As a matter of fact, he's probably been there this whole time…!_

Yet, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself of this, she still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that it couldn't be that simple…

Nevertheless, she zoomed off in the direction of Sheldon's house, scanning the streets and sidewalks for any signs of him along the way. Block after block she flew, all her sensors now keenly attuned to the task of scanning for her friend. But it was futile effort; the neighborhood streets were almost entirely deserted.

In minutes, she arrived at his front door, setting down gently on the doorstep. She rang the doorbell, and waited.

No answer.

She rang the bell a second time and waited. Then a third time.

Still no answer. The house was silent, save for the faint echo of the doorbell reverberating in the empty hallways inside.

She peeked in the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but she saw nothing but empty rooms. She then flew to the second floor and circled the house completely, checking in all the windows as she flew.

Still no sign of him. The house appeared to be empty.

Reluctantly, she turned and rocketed away, doubling back on the direction from whence she came, methodically scanning the streets of the neighborhood a second time.

_Okay…okay…okay…_ she thought as she fought off growing anxiety. _So he's not home… then he's got to be somewhere along the way between here and school…or somewhere nearby… He's __got__ to be! I probably just missed something, that's all; some small clue or some detail along the way… I __must__ have!_

Yet even as she thought this, Jenny _knew_ she hadn't missed anything. If there was even the briefest glimpse of Sheldon, even the tiniest, most minute sign of him, any clue anywhere along the way, Jenny _knew_ she'd have spotted it immediately and homed in on it like a guided-missile.

She then began circling the neighborhood, gradually expanding her search-pattern into ever-widening circles, to include the surrounding neighborhoods as well, and edging closer and closer toward the downtown area.

_Where is he? Where __is__ he?!_ She thought in growing consternation as she scanned. _He's __got__ to be around here somewhere! He's __got__ to be! I mean, this town isn't even that big! How many places could he possibly hide?!_

After checking the last street of the surrounding neighborhoods, she then headed toward the main downtown area itself, to begin checking all the various places where she knew Sheldon sometimes liked to hang out and spend time. The first and most-obvious place she decided to check was _Legendary Warriors,_ the local gaming-supply store, where Sheldon often spent his free time, deeply engaged in a gaming session with other RPG enthusiasts. The little shop was nearby, located right on the border between the suburban neighborhoods and the outermost edge of the downtown area, and Jenny arrived at its front door in mere moments.

_Sick or not, flu or no flu, I'll bet he stopped by here!_ She thought hopefully as she opened the door and stepped inside. _That's got to be it! Sure! He was just feeling in a bad mood earlier, that's all, so he stopped by here to cheer himself up! This is where he's got to be!_

But the moment she glanced around the interior of the little store, her hopes were once again dashed. For although there was a small group of boys gathered around a folding-table set up in the middle of the store, she saw immediately that Sheldon was not among them.

One of the boys, a friendly-looking fellow named Quinton, looked up and noticed her then, greeting her with a wave and a warm smile.

"Hi, Jenny!" he said. The other boys also looked up and likewise greeted their robotic friend with smiles and waves. They all knew Jenny quite well, as she too sometimes joined them for gaming sessions after school.

"Hey, guys!" she replied as she approached them.

"We're just about to start a gaming-session!" said a second boy, named Flynn, as he unfolded a game map, while the other boys began setting up and arranging various game pieces, 12-sided dice, and other game accessories on the table. "Wanna join us?"

"No thanks, guys; not today. Listen, I'm trying to find Sheldon. It's very important. Have any of you guys seen him today?"

"Gosh, I haven't seen Sheldon in…geez, at least a couple of weeks," said Flynn.

"I haven't seen him in over a _month,"_ said Quinton.

"Who'd you say you're looking for? Sheldon?" asked Gerard, a short, plump boy with thick glasses and a face full of pimples, now joining them at the table with a soft drink in his hand. "I saw him earlier today."

"You did?" Jenny immediately whipped around to face the newcomer. "Where'd you see him? _When_ did you see him, what time? Did you talk to him? Did he say anything? What did he say? How did he sound? How'd he look to you? Did he look okay? Did he look sick? Did he look upset? Did he—" Again, Jenny had to rein in her rapid-fire, 500-word-per-minute questioning to allow Gerard a moment to think—and to respond.

"Well, um…" Gerard stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to recall. "Let's see… It was pretty early this morning…"

_This __morning__?!_ All at once, Jenny's inner workings seemed to sag in disappointment.

"And it was just outside school, just before first class started." Gerard went on. "And he looked pretty lousy, too, now that I think about it. Like as if his whole world was coming to an end or something." He paused. "Anyhow, I remember I asked him if he'd like to maybe join us for a gaming session today after school. You know; like to cheer him up, take his mind off his troubles, whatever they were. He looked to me like he could use some cheering-up."

"What did he say?"

"Well, he just said—" Gerard faltered. "See, it's not so much _what_ he said, it's _how_ he said it. When I asked him if he'd like to join us, he just kinda said, _'Nooooo…'_ Just like that. Real slow and soft and _creepy._ And he looked kinda weird, too, almost like as if he was gonna start crying or something."

_Oh…..cripes!_ Jenny thought briefly, her concern growing by the moment. "Did he…did he say anything else?" she asked.

"No, that was—no, wait! There _was_ something else! I remember now!"

"What was it? _What was it?_ Can you remember?" Jenny grabbed him by the upper arms and lifted him out of his chair…and completely off the ground. "Try to remember! _Please!_ It could be important!"

"Um… Um…" Gerard stammered, as he nervously eyed the pair of metallic hands now clamped upon his arms in a vice-like grip.

"Oops, sorry…" Jenny said as she gently set him down in his chair again.

"Well…let's see," Gerard leaned back in his chair, his hands folded thoughtfully across the vast expanse of his belly, as he settled back into his normally phlegmatic demeanor. "I remember Gordo and Phred were having a big argument over a play that Gordo made last night on the 13th level of _Gargoyles of Gavilan,_ and whether or not it was allowed by the rules. It got pretty heated by the time Sheldon passed by. And since Sheldon is the undisputed _Gargoyles of Gavilan_ expert Game Master of all Tremorton and knows that rule book inside and out by heart, they asked him to make a ruling on it."

"And…?"

"Well…he just kinda…slowly shook his head, shrugged, and in that same slow, soft voice, he said, _'Guys…what does it matter? It's only a game.'"_

"_Sheldon_ said 'What does it matter, it's only a game'? _Gargoyles of Gavilan 'only a game'?!"_ Jenny echoed, aghast. _Crikey! _She thought, her eyes widening in alarm._ It's more serious than I thought!_

Gerard nodded, knowingly. "Yeah…! So whatever it is that's bugging him, you know it's gotta be something pretty bad."

"Yeah…! Yeah, you're right!" Jenny said, turning and heading for the door. "Well, listen, could you all do me a favor? If he stops by here, or if _any_ of you guys see him or hear from him, could you _please_ let me know _immediately?_ It's _very_ important I find him and talk to him! Okay?"

"Sure, Jenny; sure…" all the boys agreed.

"I hope you find him OK." Quinton said.

"Thanks, guys. I'll see you later." With that, Jenny stepped outside and blasted off, rocketing skyward, resuming her quest.

* * *

Dr. Wakeman glanced up at the clock. It was getting late; _way_ past the time when Jenny could normally be expected to arrive home from school.

_Where __is__ she?_ Dr. Wakeman wondered with a frown. _She's usually home by now! Or when she isn't, she usually calls! At least…__sometimes__ she does, anyway…! Ordinarily, I wouldn't worry…but…with the way she's been acting lately…!_

She sighed in helpless frustration, settling back in her chair, arms folded, her frown deepening with each passing minute.

_Five more minutes…_ she decided. _I'll wait another five minutes…and if I don't hear from her, I'm going to call her and find out just what on earth is going on!_

She stared impatiently at the clock, as the seconds ticked by…

When exactly four minutes and fifty-seven seconds had elapsed, she reached for the console of the computer to contact her robotic daughter by videophone. But just as she was about to hit the speed-dial key, she hesitated. She knew that Jenny didn't like to be "checked on" that way—it was a long-running and ongoing source of contention and friction between the two of them, with Jenny's desire for more freedom constantly at-odds with Dr. Wakeman's need to assert supervision and authority over her creation.

_But this situation is different!_ She reminded herself._Very__ different!_

She hesitated for only a moment longer, then hit the speed-dial key.

* * *

As Jenny rocketed through the skies, the alarm for her videophone sounded, and out from her chest emerged the telecom-screen, displaying her creator's likeness.

_Oh, Mom, not __now__!_ Jenny thought in dismay._ Not __now__! This is the very worst possible of all worst possible times!_

"XJ-9?" Dr. Wakeman said. "Are you all right? Where are you? What's going on?"

Jenny rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "I'm _fine,_ Mother! Everything's fine, everything's under control."

"Well, why aren't you home yet? Did something happen? Did something go wrong? Did you—"

"Nothing happened, Mother!" Jenny interrupted. "I _told _you; everything's fine!"

"Well then, is there another monster attacking the town? Or some other crisis going on that I should know about? Or a crisis in another country in another part of the world? I haven't seen or heard anything on any of the monitors, so—"

"No, Mother, I _told _you, everything's under control! There's no crisis! I'm just—" She hesitated. "I'm out looking for Sheldon."

A brief but heavy silence followed for a moment, as Dr. Wakeman absorbed Jenny's response.

"You're looking for Sheldon," she tonelessly echoed her daughter's reply. "Well, _what on earth did you_—" she caught herself just as her voice began to rise in both pitch and volume. She took a deep breath and started again, taking a different tack. "So by that I take it you mean you still haven't seen him today. Is that correct?" Despite her efforts to remain calm and patient, her words gradually began to acquire the tone of an inquisition.

"Well…no, but—" Jenny replied after a beat.

"So you still haven't spoken to him yet." Dr. Wakeman interrupted with just the faintest _hint_ of a sharp tone. "Is _that_ correct?"

"No…not yet."

"XJ-9…!" In spite of herself, Dr. Wakeman's voice began to grow in severity, the first audible indication that a scolding was due to follow.

"But Mom, I _tried_ to talk to him in school earlier today!" Jenny hastened to assure her creator, but there was no concealing the rising tension in her voice. "I _did!_ I really, really _did!_ But I barely even saw him! I tried…and tried…and _tried_ to talk to him…but he kept avoiding me! 'Cuz he's _scared_ of me now! _Really _scared, just like I said! He was so scared that he finally disappeared completely by late afternoon! I couldn't find him anywhere in school, and now I don't know _where_ he is! He was even absent from Fourth Dimensional Calculus! And he's _never_ done that before!"

"All right…all right, XJ-9, all right… Settle down…" Dr. Wakeman said, trying to calm her robotic daughter…and herself. "Let's…let's not get upset… Let's discuss this calmly. Now…first thing's first. Have you tried checking his house? Perhaps he was sent home early for some reason."

"Yes, Mother! I already thought of that!" Jenny replied. _Geez, Mom, I'm not stupid!_ She thought. "That was the first place I looked! He wasn't home."

"All right, then. Tell me where you are right now."

Jenny sighed, trying to conceal her own growing frustration…and anxiety. "I already _told_ you! I'm…flying all over town, looking for _Sheldon!"_ _Cripes, Mom, weren't you __listening__?_ she thought, annoyed.

"Where? Specifically, _where_ are you, exactly?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I'm…right now, I'm flying just past Coolidge and Third, heading towards the center of town. I'm checking all the stores and other places where I know Sheldon sometimes likes to hang out." She paused. "I mean, he's _gotta_ be at _one_ of them, right?"

Another, longer pause followed, as Dr. Wakeman absorbed her daughter's response. "Yes…all right…" she said quietly. "That sounds like a reasonable plan. Keep looking, then…and keep me informed."

"Yes, Mother!" Jenny replied, as she hit the button on the top of the screen, which then immediately folded up and retracted back into her chest cavity. She knew her mom meant well, but there _were_ times when her offers of assistance could be more of a hindrance and a distraction than anything else. Now was just such a time…

_Now then, where was I?_ Jenny struggled to regain her train of thought._ There's a few more stores he might be where I can check… Or maybe he's at the mall… Or maybe somewhere along the way… Or maybe he went to the junkyard… Sometimes he scrounges around in there for old electronic parts and scrap-metal and junk like that… He could be there, I suppose… I'll start checking the stores and the mall first, though, they're closer…_

With a definite course of action now firmly in mind, she then proceeded to the center of town and resumed searching Sheldon's usual haunts, systematically checking one…after another...after another…

* * *

Sheldon had just finished the last of his burger, fries and soda, and settled back into his seat in the booth with a deep, satisfied sigh. It was amazing how quickly his appetite had returned, once he'd put some distance between himself and the source of so much of his current heartache and unhappiness. And, interestingly enough, it was also amazing how quickly his mood had improved, now that he had some food in his stomach. Somehow, the world didn't seem quite so bleak to him anymore. And, now that he'd had some time to think about the matter more fully, the idea of transferring to Poly Tech definitely began to look better and better to him all the time…

_And who knows?_ He thought, with budding optimism, and even the first stirrings of enthusiasm that he'd felt in weeks. _It could be the start of a whole new life for me over at Poly Tech! Maybe even a better one! Maybe I'll fit in better and be happier. Not only will I get to work with all the science and math and tech stuff I want, but maybe I'll even make some new friends over there as well—__real__ friends, that is! Friends who'll like me and accept me for what I am… Who won't make me feel like a jerk or a fool…! Maybe I'll even meet a nice girl there… One who'll be kind to me and respect me... One who won't treat me like dirt…! One who won't turn against me or betray me…or __hurt__ me, the way Jenny did…! I bet there won't even be any school bullies there, either…! Or any mean, cruel girls, like the Crust Cousins or Pteresa...! Or Jenny!_ he thought, bitterly.

For that reason alone, he thought, if his life at Poly Tech turned out to be no better than it was at Tremorton High, it couldn't _possibly_ be any worse.

He lingered in the booth for a few minutes longer, allowing his meal to digest as he contemplated his plans for the future. Then, slowly, easily, he rose to his feet and ambled contentedly to the front door. Some customers were entering the restaurant just then, and he stepped aside, allowing them to pass. Then, when the doorway was clear again and he was about to step outside, he suddenly heard a sharp _whooshing_ sound from directly overhead, as though a Skyway Patrol jet had flown by. Only this sound was slightly different, he noticed; it had a smaller, uniquely muted timbre to it, almost graceful in its mellow, bell-like tone-quality.

Sheldon recognized the sound immediately and froze. Cautiously, he craned his head through the doorway and peered upward to see Jenny rocketing through the skies over midtown Tremorton.

_Oh, no! _He thought with a start._ She's—she's still looking for __me__!_ _ She's still mad at me and wants to pound me into mincemeat or something…!_

He watched her intently, as she definitely did appear to be seeking someone…or something.

He shook his head, as though to dispel his fears. _No, no, let's not get paranoid, here…_ he told himself. _She's probably just engaged in her usual superhero duties, that's all… Probably looking for monsters or arch-villains on the run from the law or something like that… Nothing that concerns __me__… No, I'm probably the furthest thing from her mind right now. If she was gonna do something to me, she'd have done it earlier, during school-hours… She sure isn't going to waste time and energy looking for me now, not even to beat me up or blast me with her lasers again or whatever… I'm just not that important to her…as she herself would be only too quick to point out…!_ He thought with a mixture of sadness and bitterness.

In spite of the vow he'd made to neither look at nor even think about Jenny, and in spite of the lingering fear and bitterness he felt over her treatment of him, Sheldon nevertheless found himself thoroughly enraptured by the captivating sight of Jenny in flight. As he gazed longingly upon the object of his unrequited affection, he felt overcome by a mixture of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he experienced an intense feeling of awe and wonder at her uncanny beauty and effortless grace in flight, as she soared through the skies, watching over and protecting the town like a guardian angel. Mixed in with this was an excited curiosity about where she could be going, what great and wondrous new adventures she could embarking upon, and what new thrills and excitement were awaiting her.

Yet at the same time, he also once again experienced the by-now-familiar pangs of heartache, sadness, loneliness and longing. That precise moment in time was a defining moment for Sheldon: it seemed to perfectly symbolize and summarize the fated, eternal disparity between Jenny's life and his own; between her exalted, elevated status in life, and his own lowly, insignificant rank. She, at that moment, as in everyday life, was both literally and figuratively so far above him as to be eternally beyond his reach; forever destined to be separate and apart from him for all time. She, soaring high above him in the skies, like a proud, magnificent eagle: free, glorious and beautiful…while he remained stuck on the ground, like the lowly, miserable crawling insect that he now felt himself to be. _That's probably just how Jenny sees me, too! _He thought._ Just a nasty, creepy bug under her feet, only good to be stepped on and squashed and kicked aside…!_

And as Sheldon contemplated their disparate life status and pondered the exciting new adventures awaiting in Jenny's future, he also realized that he was destined never to be a part of those adventures. He would never be welcome to share in _any_ aspect of Jenny's life in any way, for that matter, or to ever be regarded as anything but pest; just an unwelcome and unwanted intrusion upon her life, nothing more. That fact was now crystal clear to him.

Even though he always knew that he could never do any of the wonderful things that she could, he nevertheless hoped and wished that there might be _some_ way he could participate in her adventures; something he could to do to help out and assist her in his own small way, just to prove himself worthy to her, to be valued and appreciated by her. He was willing to do _anything_ for her, just to be close to her and be a part of her remarkable life.

And, for awhile, it almost seemed possible… Almost, just possible…that he _could_ so prove himself to her…and be valued…and appreciated by her...in time...

But…no, it was not to be. No, her betrayal of him had ruled that out, and proven its futility to him beyond all doubt, and demonstrated once and for all that Jenny would _never_ accept him, value or appreciate him, no matter what. That hadn't changed and never would, he now realized. If even saving her life—on more than one occasion—hadn't changed her opinion of him for the better, then nothing would. That was simply a hard truth that could no longer be denied…

No, his life and hers were destined to remain so far apart from one another that they might as well take place on different planets. And his destiny was to be forever on the outside; left out, unwanted and unappreciated by her, forever…

Jenny would never even be willing to share her adventures with him verbally, by recounting them to him in words. If he were even to so much as ask about them, she would merely brush him aside, with an impatient, _"Not now, Sheldon, I'm very busy with superhero business! You wouldn't understand!"_ Or _"Go away, Sheldon, this doesn't concern you!"_ just as she had done in the past.

His recollection of her words cut through his heart like a razor-sharp blade, reminding him again of his lowly, insignificant status in life compared with hers, and his eyes began to well with tears. With the now-familiar feelings of sadness and heartache there came also an intense emptiness deep within him that no amount of food could ever fill; the deep, most profound longing for what he knew he couldn't have and could _never_ have, a life he would never be allowed to share, that he was not _worthy_ of sharing...

_No wonder she never cared about me or had any feelings for me, other than contempt!_ he thought. _Maybe I'm __not__ worth caring about…! I'm __not__ worthy of her time or concern! Compared to saving the world every day, what am I? Maybe I __am__ just a…a nothing…! A nothing and a nobody…!_ He sobbed at the thought.

He lingered at the doorway for a moment longer for one last, longing look at the gleaming blue and white figure as she soared out toward the horizon…and out of sight.

_And out of my life…forever… _he thought, wistfully. _Good bye, Jenny… Good bye… I'll probably never see you again… Not that you'll miss me…or care…but at least you won't have Sheldon Lee to kick around anymore…! Maybe __then__ you'll be happy…! I had so much to offer you, so much love in my heart to give you…but…all I had to offer, you wouldn't even take… _

He felt another great sob welling from deep within him, and slowly, he lowered his head. Reluctantly, he turned away from the doorway, wiping his eyes, just as more customers were entering the restaurant, older kids whom he knew from school. As they bustled around and brushed past him, he ducked his head down and scurried back and away from the doorway, heading for the restroom just as quickly and discretely as he could, so that they wouldn't see him crying. Once inside the restroom, he sat down in one of the stalls and remained there for the better part of the next hour, where he permitted himself a good long cry in private.

* * *

Jenny circled the town several more times, in the most painstakingly thorough search of which she was capable, checking every last place she could think of, searching high and low, up and down all the streets of all the neighborhoods, and all over the town, checking each and every store and shop where she thought Sheldon might be found. She even checked them several times, just to be sure she hadn't missed anything, or in case he might've stopped by there after the first time she'd checked. But it was all in vain; her seemingly endless search had produced no results whatsoever.

_Well…there's only one place left that I can think of…_ Jenny thought, nearing the end of her rope._ I doubt he went there if he wasn't feeling well, if he was sick with the flu or whatever… But still…it wouldn't hurt to check at least…_

With that, she headed toward Mezmer's, arriving in moments at the front door. She poked her head inside the doorway, glanced around inside the restaurant, and saw approximately a couple dozen kids from school, scattered here and there around the dining-area, and Mr. Mezmer himself, seated behind the counter, looking over the cash-register receipts for the day. But other than that, there was no sign of Sheldon here, either. She sighed in disappointment. But just to be thorough, however, she stepped inside and began checking all the booths, one by one, even checking under the tables, just in case, on the gazillion-to-one chance, that Sheldon might be hiding underneath one of them. But the only result she got was to receive strange looks from the other kids, wondering what on earth the weird robot-girl could possibly be up to now...

"Excuse me, Mr. Mezmer?" she called out to the proprietor after checking under the last table.

"Yes, Miss…?" Mr. Mezmer replied, looking up from the stack of receipts that had occupied his attention. He regarded her coldly through his thick spectacles, and for a moment, Jenny felt slightly intimidated. It was a well-known fact that Mr. Mezmer didn't like robots, and although he no longer treated her with the level of outright hostility that he once had, and was at least trying to overcome his anti-robot prejudices, it was obvious that he still didn't feel entirely comfortable speaking to her.

"Um…has Sheldon Lee been here today?" she asked.

"Could you describe him, Miss…?" he asked in his heavy Scottish burr.

_Oh, brother!_ Jenny thought._ You'd think the man would know his regular customers by now!_ But she duly described her friend: "Short, about five feet six, kinda skinny, pale skin, black hair, black eyes, a couple of big freckles or birth-marks on his left cheek, usually wears a maroon hoodie." She reeled off the pertinent details.

"Oh yes, yes," Mr. Mezmer replied, nodding. "I remember. The lad _was_ in here a short while ago. Ate his meal and left, I believe. And not too long ago, in fact. I believe I saw him heading for the exit no more than five, maybe ten minutes ago, just as these folks were coming in and I took their order."

"Oh, okay. Thank you, Mr. Mezmer!" Jenny turned and headed for the door.

"Anytime, Miss. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Mr. Mezmer turned his attention back to his receipts.

Once outside, Jenny blasted off and took to the skies once more, resuming her search of the area with renewed hope.

_Okay…okay…okay…_ she thought. _So he was just here only a few minutes ago! That's good! He can't be too far away! He's __gotta__ be around here somewhere!_

But after another twenty minutes of fruitless searching, with Sheldon still nowhere in sight, Jenny's briefly-revived hope, her patience—and her rocket-fuel—all began to diminish with each passing minute.

_I don't get it, I don't __get__ it!_ She thought in growing frustration._ If he was just here only a little while ago, where the heck could he have possibly gone?! Crikey, he __couldn't__ have moved that fast! He would have had to move faster than me, and that's not even possible! And he couldn't have just disappeared off the face of the earth, either! _

Her frustration grew until at last, inevitably, she began to direct it inward. She slapped her forehead in helpless frustration at her own error in judgment._ Oooooh, why didn't I just check Mezmer's in the first place?!_ She silently reproached herself._ Why?! Why?! It's so obvious! Why didn't I think of it sooner?! If I'd just checked there in the first place, instead of wasting time on a stupid wild-goose chase all over town, or if I'd been there ten minutes earlier—or even five!—I could have caught up with him and we could have had this whole stupid mess straightened out by now!_ _Ohhhh, I feel like such an idiot! I feel so __stupid__!_

She sighed in frustration, and struggled to maintain her focus. _No matter,_ she told herself, trying to think optimistically. _He's got to be around here somewhere; he's __got__ to be! It's only a matter of finding him, that's all... I'll find him, say I'm sorry, and then we can put this whole thing behind us once and for all…_

But her frustration—and her efforts to bolster her spirits—did nothing to allay her growing fears, never openly acknowledged up until now, that some terrible fate may have befallen her friend. All afternoon, she'd fought off this growing fear, as it lurked at just the edge of her consciousness, threatening to underscore and emphasize her own guilty conscience. And the longer her seemingly futile search continued, the more difficult it became for her to avoid those fears…

_Something is really, really wrong with him…!_ She thought. _I can feel it! I can feel it right down to my last positronic neuron! He's in real trouble this time, I know it! And it's all my fault…!_

For one brief moment, the frightening possibility flashed through her mind that Sheldon might have even been captured and spirited away by some particularly fiendish arch-villain, for who-knew-what reason, to be held as a hostage or a pawn…or as part of some perverse, twisted plot of revenge against her, or for some other nefarious purpose she could not even imagine. Such a thing had happened to him once before, after all, way back when they'd first met… _Could the same thing be happening all over again?_ She wondered.

_No, no!_ she thought, shaking her head furiously, as though to dispel the thought. _ I must have missed something along the way! I __must__ have! Come on, __think__, Jenny! __Think__!_

It was then that Jenny first began to realize that her initial goal of finding Sheldon to apologize to him had been superseded by another, much more urgent goal: To find him in order _to ensure that he was all right, that no harm had come to him._ Much to her surprise, she discovered that she was genuinely _concerned_ about him. Although she might have denied it, both to herself and to others…she realized that she actually _cared_ about him. She saw that now; there was no longer any denying it. That being the case, she simply _had_ to make sure he was all right, she now knew; she just _had_ to!

But after hours of flying with virtually no results to show for it, and with both her fuel and her spirits now running low, Jenny was finally forced to admit defeat. When at last her fuel-gauge reached the critical level and she began drawing on her reserves, she reluctantly gave up the search and headed home.

_This is hopeless!_ She thought despondently as she flew homeward.

* * *

End Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8--Mistaken Assumptions

_Author's Note: As always, a big thank-you to all the devoted fans who continue to follow this long story as it unfolds. And an especially big shout-out thank-you to "DarkBeta," for offering some valuable creative input and feedback, which I was able to utilize and weave into the fabric of both this chapter and the next. Thanks a great big huggy-bunch, "DarkBeta"! _

_As always, comments and feedback are always welcome, so if you like how the story is progressing, please feel free to leave a review. Thanks._

_In this chapter, our beloved characters continue to examine and re-evaluate their feelings about each other… _

**Resolution**  
A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic  
By Shvique

**Chapter 8—Mistaken Assumptions**

Sheldon finally emerged from the restroom, considerably calmer and more composed now, as he slowly approached the restaurant's front door. He took a deep breath, held it…and cautiously peered out through the open doorway, scanning the skies and listening intently for the distinctive sound of mini-jets. There was neither sight nor sound of Jenny. He felt a mixture of relief…and yet disappointment as well. For in spite of everything, a small, tiny part of him still felt an intense yearning to look upon her one last time, even if only from a distance. But…she was gone… Gone…and, he was sure, out of his life, forever…

But…he'd had a final glimpse of her, and he'd said his final, silent good-bye to her as well. That would have to suffice. He was at last ready to let go and move on with his life, however painful that process might continue to be.

_Well…_ he thought with one final, mournful sigh, _if Jenny won't have my love, then maybe there's a nice girl out there somewhere in the world who __will__…! Someone more worthy of it… Someone more deserving… Someone who'll value and appreciate a little kindness now &amp; then…! A—a __good__ girl…a __kind-hearted__ girl…a—a __real__ girl…!_ He sobbed at that last thought._ I—I just have to find her, that's all… She's got to be out there…somewhere in the world…_

He was just about to step outside, when he suddenly became aware of the eerie sensation of being watched. He looked around to discover Mr. Mezmer staring intently at him. It was often difficult to tell whether the restaurant owner was displeased about something or if it was simply his normally sour disposition. In this case however, Mr. Mezmer seemed to be narrowly scrutinizing Sheldon, as though he were a particularly difficult puzzle he was trying to figure out, and it made Sheldon nervous.

"Um—is—is there something wrong, Mr. Mezmer?" he asked timidly.

"Weren't you in here earlier?" the proprietor asked, getting straight to the point.

"Um—well, yes; yes, I was…"

"Oh. Well then, did you forget something and have to come back for it?"

"No, no… I've been here the whole time."

Mr. Mezmer blinked at him with a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head, as though he didn't quite understand.

"I was in the bathroom." Sheldon explained.

"Oh…oh…I see…" Mezmer replied, nodding.

"Why?"

"Nothing, nothing, lad," Mezmer replied. "It's just that… Well, someone was in here a little while ago, looking for you, that's all."

Sheldon gulped. "W—who…?" he asked in a tiny, quavering voice.

"Oh, that—that _robot,"_ Mezmer replied, with a particularly chilly emphasis on the word. "You know; that XJ something or other. Whatever it's called."

Sheldon shuddered. "W—what did she say?"

"Well, it—I mean, _she—"_ he corrected himself, out of politeness. "Simply asked if you had been here. I told her that you had been, but that you'd already left."

Immediately, Sheldon relaxed. "Oh…! Okay! Thanks, Mr. Mezmer!" he smiled, relieved. "Thanks a lot! You're a real pal!" His smile widened.

Mezmer merely shrugged. "I thought you _had_ left, actually," he said. "But if I had known you were hiding from her in the bathroom, I wouldn't have told her _anything."_

"Well, I wasn't exactly _hiding…"_ Sheldon started to clarify, but then changed his mind. "Oh well, it doesn't matter… Never mind…" With a final wave, he stepped out the door. "Thanks again, Mr. Mezmer." He said in departing.

"Anytime, lad," Mr. Mezmer replied, then turned his attention back to his ledgers. _Robots! _He thought with a scowl. _I knew it! I knew it all the time and said so! Robots are __dangerous__! Can't trust __any__ of them! That young lad is obviously frightened to death of that infernal thing! Probably been terrorizing him for who knows how long now! Infernal, dangerous things! They ought to be banned!_

* * *

As Sheldon resumed his walk home, he kept replaying over and over again in his mind the exchange he'd had with Mr. Mezmer, trying to imagine Jenny's inquiries about him, coupled with what he imagined Mezmer's responses might have been. Evidently, Sheldon had been wrong to so cavalierly dismiss Jenny's motives earlier, when he'd seen hear flying over the town, and had assumed she was merely going about her superhero duties. Clearly, his initial fears when he'd first spotted her were well-justified: Jenny apparently_ had_ been looking for him all along, no doubt to be mean to him, just as he'd feared.

_I don't get it, I don't get it! _He silently wailed to himself. _She's nice to practically every other boy in school! Why not to me? Why?! And if she can't be nice to me, like she is to everyone else, then can't she at least leave me alone? Can't she just leave me in peace? Why does she have to be so—so vindictive? Can't she let me be? I'm miserable enough as it is!_

As he walked along, however, his mood gradually altered by degrees, modulating from one of sadness and despair into one of grim and weary resignation.

_I give up…_ he thought, despondently. _I give up…! Whatever more she wants from me, she can have… If she wants to pulverize me or atomize me or vaporize me or blast me to bits with her lasers, she can just go ahead and do it… Do it and get it over with… Here and now… Because I'm done! I just don't care anymore… I'm tired of running away… So here I am! Come and get me, Jenny! Finish me off, once and for all, and get it over with! Because I've had it! I just don't care anymore!_

His mood continued to ferment and sour deep within him, as he recalled the details of Jenny's outrageous conduct on that terrible day at the secret-agent compound, mulling over every ugly link in the long and tragic chain of events that had brought his former friendship with her to its current miserable conclusion. His mood grew ever more turbulent and tempestuous as he walked, seething and roiling deep inside of him, until it inevitably grew into a bitter, resentful outrage.

_Why I should be so sad and frightened, anyway?!_ He demanded of himself._ And what right has she got to still be so angry at me, for that matter? Wasn't blasting away at me with her lasers bad enough? Does she still have to be spiteful and vindictive about it now, weeks later? Heck, if __anybody's__ got a right to still be angry about it, __I__ do, not her! Because even if I __am__ a nobody and a nothing,_ _she __still__ had no right attack me that way!_

He shook his head in quiet, repressed fury. _How could she __do__ such a thing?_ He thought._ How?! What right did she have?! What right?! And what kind of a person would do such a thing, anyway? To turn against a friend who just saved her life? To repay kindness with betrayal and cruelty? What kind of person __does__ such a thing?! And for that matter, why would I even __want__ to be friends with such a mean, spiteful girl as that anyway…? _

It seemed like the fifty billionth time that he'd gone over the entire litany of questions in his mind, endlessly asking them of himself over and over again, and endlessly coming up with no answers. For there _were_ no answers, no rational, ethical frame of reference which would apply to the situation. Clearly, he realized, the cruel robot-girl played by her own set of rules, and never had to answer to anyone or anything for her actions, or face any consequences for them whatsoever. Unlike ordinary people, she apparently had never been held accountable for any of the things she did. Evidently, her status as a superhero gave her impunity to act just as capriciously and cruelly as she pleased, without consequence, free to attack even an inconsequential nonentity like himself if she felt like it, without a care in the world. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, at the unfairness and injustice of it all. His anger only intensified as he directed it inward, toward himself, for having devoted—no, _wasted_—so much thought and care and concern on one so clearly unworthy of it…

As Sheldon stewed in helpless anger and frustration, he began to wonder for the very first time, just what it was exactly that he ever saw in Jenny in the first place. Originally, he thought it was her kindness—or rather, what he _assumed_ was kindness—coupled with her great strength, that he'd found appealing. But now, he realized that he'd been mistaken to base his opinion of her upon such assumptions—assumptions which, he now realized, had proven to be false. He was wrong to assume, for example, that her actions on the occasion of their first meeting (that _one_ occasion and no other, he noted) were motivated by kindness. Her seeming 'kindness' to him that day, he now realized, was merely an act of the purest self-interest on her part. She had only protected him from those bullies because she needed him for the moment, that was all. Beyond that, she had no more care or concern for him than for any of the nuts and bolts that held her robotic body together, or for the cans of oil she consumed every day. He was simply there to serve her needs of the moment, nothing more. That was the sum-total of all that he _ever_ meant to her. Beyond that, he was nothing but an occasional nuisance to her, a troublesome insect to be swatted aside whenever he got in her way.

As for her great strength, well… although it was true that she had great powers and strength, what good were they, he now asked himself, if she could use them so capriciously and cruelly, and with complete impunity? Without justification or accountability of any kind whatsoever? When so misused, he realized, then such power was a trait hardly worthy of admiration, but rather of only the lowest contempt possible.

It was then that Sheldon experienced a shocking epiphany, as he realized, for the very first time, that the Jenny he had fallen in love with was nothing but an illusion; a highly-idealized fantasy construct that he'd formed in his mind that had no connection whatsoever to the reality of who and what Jenny truly was. The shattering truth of this epiphany shook him to the very core, leaving him reeling in shock from its impact.

_Ohhhhhhh, _He thought disgustedly. _I wish I'd never even met that darned robot-girl in the first place! I wish I'd never even laid eyes on her! I wish she'd never even come to Tremorton! Getting mixed up with her was the biggest mistake of my life! If I'd known then what I know now about her, what she's really like inside, and what she's capable of, I never would've bothered!_ _I'd have just stayed far away from her and saved myself a whole lot of time, trouble and heartache! _

He tucked his head between his hunched-up shoulders, his balled-up fists burrowing into his pockets as he walked the last few blocks home, a fierce scowl deeply etched upon his young face, as his sneakers angrily pounded the pavement with every step he took...

_Darned robot-girl…!_ He thought bitterly, as he struggled not to start crying again. _Darned mean robot-girl…!_

He furiously kicked aside a tiny pebble in his path, as though it were his most hated enemy on earth...

* * *

The front-door opened and closed, and Dr. Wakeman heard the unmistakable sound of Jenny's metallic footsteps clattering across the floor above. She glanced up at the clock on the lab wall with a frown. _Look at the time!_ She thought, as she rose to her feet and began climbing the stairs.

"I'm home, Mom." Jenny called out.

Dr. Wakeman reached the landing at the top of the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of tea, then sat down at the table, joined moments later by her robotic daughter.

"Were you ever able to find Sheldon and talk to him?" Dr. Wakeman asked.

"No," Jenny replied sadly, as she reached into a cabinet and retrieved a 2-liter bottle of Hyper-Lean jet-fuel. She sat down at the table with the bottle, slumping despondently into the chair, as she popped the cap of the bottle and tilted it back, taking several long swallows before her thirst was quenched.

"Well, while you were out searching, I tried phoning his house," Dr. Wakeman said. "But just as you had said earlier, there was no answer." Like her daughter, Dr. Wakeman was also now becoming concerned. "I tried phoning several other places around town too, but no luck."

Jenny took several more swallows of the jet-fuel. "First, I tried talking to him in school," Jenny went on in between swallows. "But like I said earlier, he kept avoiding me! Most of the day, I saw only occasional, brief glimpses of him. Finally, he disappeared completely! I looked all over for him and couldn't find him _anywhere!_ Then, as soon as school was out, I looked all over the school building and grounds for him again. Then I flew over and checked his house. Then I looked all over the neighborhood. Then, after I talked to you, I tried looking all over town for him. I looked every place I could think of! I checked the gaming-supply store, the comic-book store, the hobby shop, both used book stores, and darned near _every_ store in the mall, including the Musique store, Farnes &amp; Groble Books, Radio Shed, and McFly's Electronics! After that, I checked the local library, the junkyard, the electronics-recycling dump, the hardware store and everyplace else around town where I thought he might be. I even poked my head inside of Mezmer's, thinking he might've stopped by there for a burger or something. Turns out he _was_ there…_but he already left!_ I must have just missed him by no more than a few minutes! Can you believe it?! Only a few lousy rotten _minutes!"_ She shook her head in exasperation, then took several more swallows of jet-fuel.

"After that…it's like he just _vanished!"_ she continued, raising her hands in utter bafflement._ "Gone! Poof!_ Like into thin air! Like he disappeared right off the face of the earth or something! 'Cuz he was _nowhere_ around! And I mean _nowhere!"_ She set the bottle of jet-fuel down and shrugged, still shaking her head in bewilderment. "I don't get it, I don't _get_ it! How in the world could he just disappear like that? How?!"

Dr. Wakeman could only respond to her daughter with a helpless, feeble shrug; she was at a loss to explain it herself. But there _was_ something Jenny had said earlier that had stuck in the back of her mind; a possible clue to the mystery of Sheldon's sudden disappearance, _and_ Jenny's surprising difficulty in finding him. It was actually a very simple possible explanation, _but_…it also touched upon a rather…_delicate_ issue. And Dr. Wakeman knew that, if she chose to mention it, she would have to tread lightly with it. But for the moment, however, she chose to keep it to herself...

"Well…it doesn't matter," Jenny said, in the brief interim between swallows of jet-fuel. "Because as soon as my fuel-cells are fully recharged, I'm going right back out there to look for him some more! And this time, I'm going to find him, no matter what! And I don't care if it takes me all night! No matter where he is or what happened to him, I'm going to find him!"

Just then, the fiercely-determined look on her face vanished, and her eyebrows shot up, her eyes opened wide and her pupils contracted to tiny pinholes. "But Mom! I just thought of something!" she said, her voice tightening. "Maybe…maybe some more of those creeps from that secret agency got ahold of him! Maybe they grabbed him to put him out of the way or something!"

"Now, now, XJ-9, let's not jump to conclusions," Dr. Wakeman replied, trying her best to sound reassuring, although truthfully, it was one possibility that hadn't even occurred to her.

"Well, think about it!" Jenny said, the pitch and intensity of her voice gradually rising. "I mean, come on! You see this kind of thing in movies all the time! Any way you look at it, he's a material witness to what those guys were up to, how they were organized, how they operated and everything else about them! Why _wouldn't_ they get rid of him? It would certainly simplify things as far as they're concerned, wouldn't it? To get rid of witnesses? Especially if that Senator friend of yours _does_ go ahead with her investigation of them!"

Dr. Wakeman's eyes opened wide, and she was about to respond, but instead, she remained silent. It _was,_ after all, a distinct possibility that she couldn't dismiss. And, disturbingly, an entirely plausible one at that.

"And why _else_ am I having such a hard time finding him?" Jenny went on. "I mean, I _literally_ looked all over town for him! And I couldn't find him _anywhere!_ And believe me, I was _thorough!_ I looked everywhere but the city sewers and storm-drains! I did everything but look under rocks, for Jobs' sake!"

She sighed in helpless frustration. "I don't get it, I don't _get_ it!" She muttered. "If he's in trouble, if he's lying hurt or unconscious in a gutter with his head knocked in or something, or even if he was just getting beat up by a bully or something like that, I could probably find him in a nanosecond and save him! So how come I can't find him _now?"_

Dr. Wakeman thought carefully before answering. "Well…" she began. "Perhaps…perhaps, in a way, it's a good sign. After all, many of your sensors are attuned to locating people in distress, people who are injured, or whose lives are in danger. Even injured people who are unconscious, you're usually able to locate without difficulty, at least within a certain range. Those sensors are designed with that primary function in mind: to pick up all such distress signals, whether in the form of biological signals, such as increased heart-rate, rapid breathing and pulse, and so on, as well as certain electronic, digital, RF and microwave signals, such as those used for police calls, fire-alarms, EMS calls, some Skyway Patrol communications, and other things of that nature. Even something as simple as a person crying for help within range will cue your auditory sensors and you respond to the call immediately. So in this case, if you can't find Sheldon, and if you aren't picking up any distress signals from him either, then perhaps it's because there _are_ no signals for your sensors to pick up, and that he _isn't_ in any danger."

Jenny merely stared at her creator. She didn't find the explanation the least bit convincing, nor did she find it the least bit reassuring. Nor did she even try to conceal her skepticism of it. Truthfully, Dr. Wakeman couldn't entirely convince herself to fully accept the theory either, nor could she conceal her own doubts about it.

Jenny lowered her eyes and stared grimly at the tabletop. For one of the precious-rare times in her life, she felt utterly and completely _helpless._ Helpless…and _useless._ All of her powers and capabilities, all of her built-in sensors and instruments were useless to her now when she most needed them. She silently cursed her own inadequacies in failing to locate Sheldon.

"It's also entirely possible that your current emotional state might be interfering with the normal functioning of your sensors." Dr. Wakeman suggested cautiously. "It's also possible that the poor night's sleep you had last night might also be a factor in impairing your sensors' capabilities." She shrugged. "After all, we can't dismiss _any_ possibility."

Jenny frowned at this. If she'd failed to find her creator's first suggestion to be convincing or reassuring, then the second was one that she _definitely_ didn't want to consider.

"There is, of course, yet another possibility," Dr. Wakeman said, very quietly. "It may be that we're over-thinking the matter, and that the explanation might be much simpler. But…I almost hesitate to mention it."

Slowly, Jenny raised her head and turned to face her creator. "Well?" she said. "What is it?"

Still, Dr. Wakeman hesitated.

"You might as well say it," Jenny said. "It can't be any worse than anything I can imagine!"

"Well…it might simply be that…" Dr. Wakeman began, tentatively. "Well…if you can't find Sheldon anywhere, if your sensors and scanners aren't picking up any signs of him being in any kind of distress…then it could simply be that, _wherever_ he is, he might not necessarily _want_ to be found."

Jenny frowned again, only deeper this time, as she considered her creator's implication.

"You mean he's hiding. From me." She said, quietly.

Dr. Wakeman responded with a pitifully-feeble shrug. "It's a possibility." She said, quietly.

Slowly, Jenny turned back to face the tabletop. "For some strange, mysterious reason," she replied, glumly. "None of this is making me feel any better."

Dr. Wakeman dropped her eyes and looked away. Nothing she offered seemed to be of any help.

Jenny sat quietly for several minutes, then lowered her head and buried her face in her folded arms. "Dear Jobs…" she said, barely above a whisper. "I've _really_ done it this time…! I scared Sheldon so bad I scared him clear out of school…! Maybe even clear out of town, for all I know! There's no telling where he is now…! He could be hurt…or lying unconscious somewhere…or—or maybe those creeps from that secret agency grabbed ahold of him…or…or who knows what…!" She sobbed. _"And it's all my fault…!"_

"Now, now, XJ-9 we don't yet know all the facts—"

"Well, it's _true!" _Jenny cried, looking up to meet her creator's eyes. "If I hadn't blown my top at him that day and chased him and blasted him with my laser-cannons and everything," she wailed, "Then he wouldn't be so scared of me now that he disappeared from school! And he wouldn't be _missing_ now…!"

She lowered her head again, her eyes tightly shut. "If anything's happened to him…" She whispered. _"I'll never forgive myself…!"_

A long silence followed. Dr. Wakeman tried to think of something to say, some words of solace she could offer to her daughter, to console her and ease her anxiety. But she was at a loss, her mind a complete blank, a rare occurrence for her, when no ideas would come to her aid.

"Well," Jenny said softly but firmly, as she slowly raised her head and wiped her eyes. "I can tell you one thing for sure, and that is, _I'm not giving up!" _With a determined nod, she took one final drink of the jet-fuel, finishing off the bottle, and tossed it into the recycle-bin. "Now that I'm fully refueled again, I'm going right back out there to look for him some more! And I'm not coming back until I found him!" She rose to her feet, turned and headed for the kitchen door. "And I don't care if I have to tear this town apart, piece by piece!" From her general demeanor and attitude at that precise moment, it seemed entirely possible that she _was, _in fact, quite prepared to do just that.

"XJ-9, wait, wait, wait," Dr. Wakeman said, raising both hands to stop her daughter. "Please. Just—just hold on. Wait a moment."

Jenny halted in mid-stride and turned to face her creator. _"What for?"_ She asked.

"Well, I mean, let's not be _too_ hasty." Dr. Wakeman continued, once she had her daughter's attention. "So before you start tearing the town apart with your bare hands, ripping up roadbeds and tearing off rooftops, may I suggest some alternatives?"

"Such as?" Jenny demanded, her arms folded, impatiently.

"Well, suppose…suppose you conduct a random-walk search instead, using Sheldon's last known location as a starting-point? Suppose you try that? Start at—where did you say he was last seen? Mezmer's? All right. Try starting from there, and then—"

"_Mom?!"_ Jenny cried, interrupting her creator. _"What are you talking about?!_ Haven't you been listening? Haven't you been paying attention? _Hello?! Sheldon is missing!_ He could be in real trouble, and you're talking about me taking time out to go for a nice, leisurely stroll!"

"That's not what I meant," Dr. Wakeman patiently corrected her daughter. "When I say 'random walk,' I don't mean it in the _literal_ sense, I mean it in the theoretical, mathematical sense of the term."

Catching the by-now-familiar, utterly-baffled, _What are you talking about now, Mom?_ expression on Jenny's face, Dr. Wakeman hastened to explain: "You see, a _random-walk_ is a term used to describe or model a random-search pattern, which begins at a specified starting-point and then goes off at random angles at random distances for variable or specified, finite periods of time, resulting in…in…" her voice trailed off when she noticed the utterly blank look on Jenny's face. Clearly, Jenny wasn't buying a word of it.

"Yes, yes, I know it sounds absurd and counterintuitive," Dr. Wakeman went on, hastening to clarify. "But in some situations and circumstances—this one, for instance—it can actually be much more effective than a strictly systematic, formulaic pattern, as on a grid. And I think it could be especially useful in this case, particularly since we don't have any idea of what direction Sheldon may have taken after leaving Mezmer's, or any clear, specific idea of exactly when he—"

"_Mom!"_ Jenny interrupted again, more forcefully. "I _told _you I don't have time to go out for a walk! Mathematical, theoretical or otherwise! Sheldon is missing and I have to find him, and that's all there is to it!"

"XJ-9, as I said, I don't mean a _literal_ walk; that's just a figure of speech, an expression, what the concept is referred to in general usage…" She trailed off when she saw that Jenny seemed to be getting even more annoyed, confused, and frustrated than ever. "I mean you could conduct a random search by _air,"_ she went on, trying to clarify. "By flying, you could still cover the same given area quickly and easily, but by using a _random_ search-pattern instead of a—"

But Jenny shut her eyes and shook her head, adamantly rejecting the idea. "No… No… I don't accept that…" she declared. "It's ridiculous! It's nonsense! It's—it's _silly!_ And I don't have time to waste on silly nonsense! Random searching? Going off in random directions to nowhere? _Psh…!_ Please! Don't waste my time!"

"But XJ-9, if you'll only listen—"

"No… No…" Jenny continued shaking her head, her arms folded, her mind firmly closed on the matter. "I'm going to search the town again—and again and _again_ if I have to!—but I'm going to do it _sensibly! Systematically!_ And that's _that!"_

"But—!"

"_Ohhhhhh, I don't have time for this!"_ Jenny stamped her foot—shaking the entire structure of the house—and turned away, once again heading for the kitchen door. "I'm _leaving!"_

Dr. Wakeman glanced up at the clock on the wall._ "Wait, wait, wait," _she cried again. "Suppose—suppose we try this, then: Before you head out the door, suppose we try making some more phone-calls first? We can start out by trying again to reach him at home."

Again, Jenny halted mid-stride, and turned around to face her creator, now even more exasperated than before. "Mom!" she said. "We already _tried_ that! Remember? _I _checked his house in the first place, earlier this afternoon, right after school, and he wasn't home then! _You_ tried calling his house a while after that, and he _still _wasn't home! So what makes you think he's going to suddenly, somehow, magically be there _now?"_

"Well, yes, yes, that's true; we _did_ try reaching him at home earlier. But that was quite some time ago. It's later now. Perhaps he's home by now from—from _wherever_ he was. A phone-call is faster than flying, after all. And certainly much more efficient. After all, it doesn't use up any jet-fuel."

Jenny sighed, and considered the suggestion—though she obviously didn't want to.

Aware of Jenny's growing frustration and diminishing patience, Dr. Wakeman hastened to add, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to _try_…would it? Just one last try…?"

Jenny sighed again, resignedly. "Fine!" she conceded with a shrug. "It's worth a try, I suppose." She walked over to the wall-phone on the opposite side of the kitchen and picked up the receiver. She dialed…and waited… And waited…

"And then if he's still not home," Dr. Wakeman went on. "Then…we can try making some other phone calls. We can start by contacting his mother where she works, and find out if perhaps _she_ might know something." Privately, however, Dr. Wakeman also began to wonder if perhaps they should consider contacting the local hospital as well...

"There's no answer," Jenny said. "I _told_ you he's not home."

"Or perhaps he _is_ home and he's just not able to come to the phone?" Dr. Wakeman suggested, hopefully. "Perhaps he wasn't feeling well after all, and had to leave school early because of it. If so, that would explain why he was absent from some of his classes. _And_ why you couldn't find him anywhere in town. And when you stopped by his house earlier, perhaps he was asleep at the time and didn't hear the doorbell ring. Or perhaps he couldn't come to the door; if he was in the bathroom, for instance. He could be in the bathroom right now, for that matter—"

"Oh, I don't think so," Jenny argued, interrupting. "I don't think he's sick, I mean. Because the school nurse said he hadn't been in to see her today. And when I stopped in at Mezmer's later on, Mr. Mezmer said Sheldon _had_ been there only a little while earlier, and even had a burger, remember? So how sick could he have been?"

"Well, if he had a burger at Mezmer's, maybe _that's_ why he got sick!"

Jenny rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. _"Mom!"_ she exclaimed. "This is _serious!"_

She then turned her attention back to the phone. "There's _still_ no answer! I _told_ you he's not home!"

"Well then, perhaps he's washing his hands or something. Let it ring awhile longer. Let's be patient."

But Jenny was in no mood to be patient. _This is so stupid!_ she thought. _ This is such a total stupid, lame waste of time! I'm standing here, wasting valuable time, holding a stupid phone, when I could be out there, looking for him!_ But, just as she'd been advised, she still remained rooted to the spot, allowing the phone to ring for several more minutes...

* * *

As Sheldon approached the front door of his house, he thought he heard the phone ringing inside and quickened his pace. He retrieved his house-key from his pocket, and struggled to insert it into the lock.

_Come on, come on, come on…!_ he thought, as he struggled with the cranky, cumbersome lock, which had a maddening tendency to jam at inopportune times. _Come __ON__!_ he thought, making a last-ditch effort to force the key in. Once he was successful, he then tried to turn the key…but it refused to budge.

The phone continued to ring from inside the house…

Sheldon struggled with the key, trying not to break it off in the lock, until at last, it turned, unlocking the door. Sheldon swung the door open wide and stepped inside. He was just about to move for the phone in the hallway…when he suddenly realized that the key, once so reluctant to enter the lock, now adamantly refused to exit from it.

The phone rang and rang…

"_Come on, come on, come on, stupid thing!"_ Sheldon grumbled as he wrestled with the jammed key, punching and kicking the door for good measure.

At last, the key departed from the imprisoning lock, and Sheldon dashed to the phone. He was just about to pick up the receiver when, at the last moment, he hesitated. _I bet it's Vice-Principal Razinski, calling to complain about my cutting school early!_ he thought. _Well, if it is, then it's pretty stupid of him to call here now! Doesn't he know Mom isn't gonna be home from work yet? Why doesn't he try reaching her at her job?_ _Stupid…!_ He shook his head dismissively, as he finally picked up the receiver.

* * *

"There's just no answer," Jenny said, as she reluctantly hung up the phone and turned to face her creator. "That settles it! He's just not home, and that's that!"

* * *

"Hello, Lee Residence, Sheldon Lee speaking," Sheldon said into the receiver. "Hello? Hello?"

The line was dead.

"_Hello?!"_ he repeated loudly one last time, then sighed and hung up the receiver. _Crank calls!_ He thought, irritated. _On top of everything else! _ _Like I don't have enough grief in my life as it is, now I have to deal with crank calls!_ He turned and began slowly trudging his way up the stairs to his bedroom. _Well, if it was Razinski, then he'll probably call back again later tonight, when Mom's home. Or maybe he'll call her at work. Either way, she'll hear about my cutting school eventually, and __then__ I'm toast!_

When he reached his bedroom, he threw his backpack into a corner and flopped down onto his bed in sheer, aggravated exhaustion. Right now, in the mood he was in, he just wished this day, this week, this entire month was _over._ Better yet, he wished they'd never even happened in the first place…

* * *

"Well, do you mind if _I_ give it a try?" Dr. Wakeman offered.

"Do whatever you like," Jenny replied, waving a hand dismissively, as she turned away and once again headed for the kitchen door. "But _I'm_ leaving!"

Dr. Wakeman calmly walked over to the phone, picked it up and began dialing. She let it ring…and ring.

* * *

The phone on Sheldon's bedside table rang. Wearily, he groaned.

_Geez, again?!_ hethought, as he rolled over onto his side, away from the phone, covering his exposed ear with his pillow, in an effort to shut out the sound. _ Well, let it ring! The heck with it! I've had it! It can ring off the hook for all I care! It's either another stupid crank call or it's Razinsky from school. And if it's Razinsky, then it's just one more headache I don't need right now! I'll deal with it later… Or maybe Mom can deal with it when she gets home later tonight. Or maybe they'll stop calling by then. She'll probably hear about it eventually, of course; by Monday, probably… But for now…I just don't want to deal with it… _

But then, another thought occurred to him.

_But what if that's Mom calling now…?_ He wondered._ Maybe they already got ahold of her where she works, told her all about my cutting school, and now she wants to chew me out about it!_ He shuddered as this new possibility occurred to him.

Although he'd have given anything in the entire world to avoid it, he knew full well from experience that, if it _was_ his mom trying to reach him and give him a good chewing-out, then the sooner he faced her and got it over with, the better the eventual outcome was likely to be, and the better off he'd be in the long run. For if he were to try to postpone the inevitable, he knew that the consequences would be all the greater and infinitely more terrible.

_Or maybe…maybe she's just calling to let me know she has to work late…again…_ he struggled to think more optimistically._ Maybe it's only that… Either way, I better answer… If it __is__ her and I don't answer, then she'll __really__ lower the boom on me when she gets home!_

And so, reluctantly—_very _ reluctantly—he reached over and picked up the receiver.

"H-hello, Lee Residence, Sheldon Lee speaking." he said once again.

"Sheldon?" Dr. Wakeman said, her face immediately brightening. "Hello, Sheldon! This is Dr. Wakeman!"

Sheldon's heart sank the instant he heard Dr. Wakeman's voice. _Oh, no! _He thought in dismay._ It's Dr. Wakeman again!_ _She probably wants me to go through the whole story about that creepy secret agency all over again…! Ohhhhhh, geez, I really don't want to do that!_ In the mood Sheldon was in, the _last_ thing he wanted was to have to rake up and relive all the gory details of that entire miserable experience. Every time he even thought about it was like rubbing salt into a gaping wound; and recalling Jenny's treatment of him that day made him sick to his stomach with anger and disgust.

The moment Dr. Wakeman heard Sheldon's voice on the line, she looked up and beckoned frantically to her robotic daughter, who froze instantly in her tracks just as she'd reached the door. In a flash, Jenny did a quick about-face and charged back to stand beside her creator, her eyes alight, her hands motioning madly with a frantic _gimme the phone!_ gesture.

"Listen, Sheldon, XJ-9—" Dr. Wakeman said, preparing to hand over the phone to her daughter.

But before he even realized what he was saying, Sheldon heard himself interrupting: "I'm sorry, Dr. Wakeman, but I can't talk now. I have to go." He spoke quietly, his voice soft but heavy with emotion.

"But Sheldon, XJ-9 really wants to speak to you—"

"I'm really sorry, Dr. Wakeman, but I—I can't… I just can't talk now," he repeated, weakly. "I—I just can't… I'm sorry… I'll—I'll have to call you back later. Tomorrow, maybe. Good-bye." He hung up the phone. Then, after a moment's thought, he took the receiver off the hook and laid it beside the phone, placing his pillow over it to muffle the dial-tone. He rolled over onto his side, away from the phone, curling up into a ball and shutting his eyes tightly.

* * *

End Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9--Meltdown

_Author's Note: As always, a big thank-you to all the devoted fans who've continued to follow this long story as it unfolds, particularly as we now approach its conclusion. As before, an especially-big big shout-out thank-you to "DarkBeta," for offering some valuable creative input, which I was able to use in this chapter. Thanks a great big huggy-bunch, "DarkBeta"!_

_As always, comments and feedback are always welcome, so if you like how the story is progressing, please feel free to leave a review. Thanks._

_In this and the remaining chapters, Jenny faces one of the toughest emotional challenges of her young life. Is she up to meeting that challenge?_

**Resolution**  
A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic  
By Shvique

**Chapter 9—Meltdown**

"Hello? Hello?" Dr. Wakeman said as she repeatedly jabbed at the button on the phone-cradle. "Sheldon? Sheldon?" She paused, then turned to face her daughter. "I don't believe it!" she said, stunned. "He hung up on me!"

Jenny's mouth dropped open; she couldn't believe it, either. _Sheldon hanging up on someone? _It wasn't like him… There was no question about it now: Something was really, really _wrong_ here…!

Dr. Wakeman hung up the phone, waited another moment or two, then picked it up and tried dialing again. After a moment, she turned to face Jenny once more. "Now the line's busy!" she said. "Either he's calling someone else, or he took the phone off the hook!" She waited another few moments; then, reluctantly hung up the phone for the last time, and stepped away, shaking her head in bewilderment.

Jenny remained rooted to the spot, still momentarily stunned in disbelief. Then she turned from her creator, and began pacing furiously back and forth about the kitchen. Her initial relief at learning that Sheldon was safe at home immediately gave way to an extreme irritation and annoyance at his refusal to speak to them, an annoyance that grew in intensity with each passing second.

"I don't believe it, I don't _believe_ it!" She grumbled and fumed in exasperation as she paced. "That's just great! That's just _great!_ I spend the whole afternoon turning the school inside-out and the town upside-down, trying to find him so I can apologize, worrying myself into a near-meltdown when he goes missing, and now, when we finally track him down, he won't even talk to us on the _phone?!_ Unbelievable! _Unbelievable!"_

She paused in her tracks and tucked her head between her shoulders, shutting her eyes tightly, and her hands balled up into tightly-clenched metallic fists. Tiny curls of smoke began to appear from the data-ports at the back of her head and neck, and she began to shudder furiously from head to foot in barely-controlled, pent-up frustration_. "Ooooooooo, that guy is gonna drive me __**CRAZY**__**!"**_ she exclaimed.

Tiny electrical arcs began to appear at the top of her head, coursing and cascading all over her steel cranium and radiating outward like miniature lightning-bolts, as though generated by a Tesla Coil. Her infuriated shudders grew in intensity, until it seemed to Dr. Wakeman as though her robotic daughter was about to shake herself to pieces and blow out every last circuit and fuse in her entire body.

"Now, now, XJ-9, don't get upset! _Don't get upset!"_ Dr. Wakeman said, standing before her daughter, her hands raised, trying to soothe her. "Calm down!_ Calm down!"_

But Jenny barely heard her; her violent shudders continued to grow in magnitude, like the tremors of a volcano just prior to an eruption.

"XJ-9…_XJ-9!"_ Dr. Wakeman said louder, with increasing firmness of tone, trying to penetrate her daughter's consciousness. "XJ-9, _calm down!_ Now, just _calm_ _down! Listen_ to me!"

But if her words had any effect, it was not readily apparent to Dr. Wakeman. She started reaching for Jenny's emergency shut-off key, which she carried on a chain around her neck; a precaution to be used only as an absolute last resort in situations like this. _Just in case!_ She thought.

"XJ-9, this is your mother speaking!" She said, in the firmest tone she could muster. "Listen to me! Control yourself! _Control yourself!_ Now, just _settle down! Just_ _settle down!"_

Little by little, by tiny increments, Jenny's infuriated shudders began to subside, and the tiny electrical arcs cascading over the top of her head began to dissipate, as she slowly, gradually regained control over her emotions.

At last, the infuriated shudders and electrical-arcs ceased altogether, giving way to emotion-wracked sobs, and slowly…slowly…Jenny raised her head to look at her creator directly. Her expression had by now softened from one of barely-controlled fury to one of the deepest and most profound sadness.

"XJ-9…?" Dr. Wakeman said softly, as she released the shut-off key and reached out with both hands to her daughter's shoulders.

Now that Jenny's initial rage had subsided, it became clear that she was far more hurt by Sheldon's rebuff than she was angry, and her sobs continued, with tears now flowing freely from her eyes.

"Jenny…" Dr. Wakeman murmured as she gently stroked her daughter's shoulders. _"Jenny…_ It's _all right… It's all right…"_

But Jenny merely stood, motionless and silent, save for her tiny, pitiful sobs, as tears continued to stream down her cheeks.

"Jenny…?" Dr. Wakeman asked softly, her head cocked to one side. "Jenny…? _Say_ something, Sweetie... _Talk_ to me… Tell me what you're feeling…"

At last, Jenny spoke. "He…he wouldn't even talk to me…on the phone…" she whimpered in a pitifully-small, utterly-defeated voice, as though she still couldn't quite believe it. "Not even on the _phone…"_ She sobbed. "He—he's _never_ refused to talk to me on the phone before…! Never…! We—we've _always_ been able to talk before…! _Always! _ No matter _what!_ About _anything…!_ Anything at _all..!_ Big things…little things… Important things… Even just…" she sobbed. "Just…you know…_stupid_ stuff…" She lowered her head and fell silent again.

Jenny felt utterly and completely lost and empty inside, as she now began to fully comprehend just how deeply her friend had been hurt. Up to now, she had persuaded herself that making up with Sheldon would be a fairly easy matter; that a simple apology would somehow fix everything. All she needed to do would be to simply say she was sorry, he would forgive her, and that would be the end of it. But now, she began to realize for the first time that it might not be that simple. Or even possible. Only now did the possibility—the _terrible_ possibility—finally occur to her for the very first time, that her friendship with Sheldon may now truly be at an end; that she may have lost her quirky, funny, helpful, sometimes annoying, but basically good-hearted little friend for all time.

"I knew it…!" she whispered as she wiped her eyes. "I knew it, I knew it, I _knew_ it…! He—he _hates_ me! He _hates_ me!" Her own words, now uttered aloud, seemed to shake her to her very core.

"Oh, XJ-9…" Dr. Wakeman said softly. "As I said before, you _know_ that's not true… You know that Sheldon doesn't hate you… Sheldon doesn't hate _anyone."_ Yet even as she said this, Dr. Wakeman found it difficult to entirely believe it herself any longer.

"Yes, he does! He _does!"_ Jenny cried, shaking her head. "He won't even talk to me on the phone! What does that tell you? No…no…I'm telling you, Mom! He's not only angry at me…or even just _scared_ of me! Not this time! Now…now he _hates_ me!" As she spoke the words, Jenny began to feel the same terrible hollowness deep inside her that she'd experienced the night before. Only now, it was even worse; _much_ worse, far more intense and devastating, as though all her intricate inner workings and electronic circuits were rapidly corroding and crumbling away into minute rust particles.

Dr. Wakeman took a deep breath. "XJ-9… Sit down… Please…" she said gently, motioning to a chair at the kitchen table. Jenny hesitated for a moment, then did as she was told.

Dr. Wakeman drew up a chair and sat down beside her robotic daughter, comfortingly rubbing her back. She knew that Jenny couldn't feel the sensation physically, but that she would appreciate the significance of the gesture, and respond to it on an emotional level.

"Now…XJ-9…listen to me." She said, softly. "Please. Just listen to me. And think carefully about what I have to say. Will you do that for me, Sweetie? Please?"

Jenny sobbed, then nodded her head.

"Now… in the first place…" Dr. Wakeman began. "Let's start out by looking at some positives. To start with, at least we now know where Sheldon is. _And_, we can assume, that he's safe and sound. We didn't know any of that a little while ago. Now we do. So that's something positive right there; something that we no longer have to worry about. So at least we have that. Isn't that true?" She paused, allowing her words to register.

Jenny sobbed, but said nothing. Instead, she merely responded with a tiny nod.

"Secondly—and more importantly," Dr. Wakeman went on. "I think we both know that Sheldon's not capable of truly hating _anyone._ It's simply not in his nature. No matter how upset, or hurt—or even _angry—_he may be, whether it's directed at you, or anyone else, I honestly don't believe he's capable of truly hating anyone. Believe me. I know. I've witnessed enough real hatred in my lifetime, and I've seen what it can do, what it's capable of, how it can destroy people; destroy their lives and even their very souls." She paused, then continued, quietly but meaningfully. "And I simply don't see any of that in Sheldon. I honestly don't."

Jenny sobbed again, but otherwise remained silent, listening in rapt attention to her creator's words.

"Even in the past, whenever he's done something wrong," Dr. Wakeman continued. "Even when his actions were ill-advised and foolish—or even downright _stupid—"_

For the briefest of moments, the faintest glimmer of a smile tugged at the corners of Jenny's mouth, only to disappear just as rapidly.

"Yes, even when he acted stupidly," Dr. Wakeman went on. "His motives were never, _ever_ malicious or spiteful or hateful in nature. Ill-advised and foolish—and even _stupid?_ Yes. But hateful? No." She paused, allowing Jenny to reflect upon her words. "Now…deep down inside, you _know_ that's true…don't you…?"

Jenny didn't answer; her only audible response was a tiny, pitiful sob. But a subtle change in her expression indicated that she had to acknowledge that there was truth in her creator's words.

Dr. Wakeman continued. "Now…as to why he didn't want to talk to us just now…well, it's quite possible—even highly probable, in fact—that he had a very good and legitimate reason."

"Like—like what…?" Jenny sobbed, pitifully.

"Well, such as…" Dr. Wakeman, paused, trying to think of possibilities; possibilities beyond the most-obvious one—which she did not want to mention—yet. "Well, for one thing, from the brief moment I spoke to him, he definitely did not sound like himself at all, I can tell you that. He sounded as though he possibly _isn't_ feeling well, just as I suspected; as though he might have a cold perhaps, or something of that nature." She paused. "If that is so, if he _isn't_ feeling well, then _that's_ probably why he didn't feel like talking. Or perhaps he's dealing with some sort of family crisis. Perhaps a family member of his is ill, or perhaps someone's been involved in a traffic accident, or…or any number of things." She paused. "So you see, XJ-9, there any number of possible reasons—_good_ reasons—why Sheldon might not feel like talking to us now. It doesn't mean that he hates you; he may simply… have other issues going on in his life right now, that's all."

"He—he still could've _talked_ to me, though…" Jenny said quietly. "For even just two seconds…" She paused; then, in a near-whisper, "He…he could've done _that_, at least… He always did…before…" She sobbed and lowered her head, as though ashamed to show herself to her creator. _Just long enough to hear me say how sorry I am!_ She thought.

"Sweetie…I think he just _couldn't…"_ Dr. Wakeman said gently, trying her best to console her robotic daughter. "For whatever reason…he just couldn't." She paused, allowing her soft words to sink in. "So please try not to be too upset with him. Please try to be patient and at least give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, we don't know what's going on with him, whether he's dealing with an illness or some sort of family-crisis or…_whatever_ the case may be." She hesitated, then went on, speaking very quietly, "In fact…to be perfectly honest with you…it sounded to me as though he'd been _crying."_

Jenny shuddered, then fell silent and motionless for several minutes, her head bowed. Dr. Wakeman could only guess at what her robotic daughter might be thinking…or feeling.

_He hates me…! He hates me…!_ Jenny thought in the long silence that followed. _And it's all my fault…! This whole thing is all my fault…! Sheldon's mad at me, he's scared out of his wits of me…! So scared he maybe even made himself sick! And in spite of what Mom says, he __hates__ me now, too! I know it deep down inside! He __hates__ me!"_

And yet, as devastated as Jenny she felt inside, a small, tiny part of her refused to give in and accept defeat. In spite of all, she still felt the overwhelming need to fight back against her growing despair with everything she had, and do whatever was necessary to try and make things right again between herself and her friend, whatever it took and however painful and difficult it might be. She would do the _impossible,_ if necessary…but one way or another, she _would_ somehow find a way to mend her friendship with Sheldon, no matter what.

At last, she raised her head, with a look of renewed determination and rededication to purpose firmly etched upon her face. "Well, then," She said firmly as she wiped her eyes. "That leaves only one thing to do." With a tiny, barely-perceptible nod, as though mutely consenting to a private vow known only to herself, she rose to her feet, turned and headed for the door.

Dr. Wakeman blinked and her mouth dropped open. "Where—where are you going?!" she asked, although she feared she already knew the answer.

"Well, now that we _know_ where he is, and that he's safe and sound," Jenny replied. "I've got to go over there. Right now. Just to see what the situation is, what's going on with him; just to make sure he's all right. And if there _is_ some kind of crisis or something going on over there, then maybe I can help. Like if he's sick or something, or if he's hurt, like if maybe he got beat up by a bully on the way home from school or something like that, then maybe I can take him to a doctor. Or—or _whatever._ And…well, if there _is_ no crisis…" She hesitated. "Well then, if I can just…just _see_ him…and _talk_ to him for five minutes… That's all… Just five minutes… Just long enough to tell him how sorry I am…then I _know_ I can make everything all right between us again. I _know_ I can!"

In an instant, Dr. Wakeman was also on her feet and standing directly in front of Jenny, blocking her path to the door, frantically waving her hands to halt her progress. "_Wait, wait, wait!"_ she exclaimed. "Just hold on… Just wait a minute." She paused, taking a breath. "Are you _really_ sure this is such a good idea right now?"

Jenny immediately stopped in her tracks, blinked and stared blankly at her creator, as though unable to comprehend the meaning of the query. _"What?!"_ she cried. "What do you _mean,_ 'is this a good idea'?!"

"I simply mean that I _really _don't think it would be advisable for you to go over there and confront Sheldon right now."

"Why not?" Jenny asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, because…because…" Dr. Wakeman gestured aimlessly with her hands as she searched for just the right words. "Well, I think it's fairly obvious that Sheldon simply doesn't want to speak to _anyone_ right now. For _any_ reason." She paused. "I mean, if he didn't even feel like talking on the phone, then he _certainly_ isn't going to want to talk to anyone in-person."

Jenny stared at her creator in puzzled silence for another long moment, then exclaimed, "_Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute!"_ Her volume rose with each repetition. "What about my apology?! Don't you remember? _You_ were the one who told me I need to apologize to Sheldon in the first place! Remember? Now it sounds like you're telling me to just forget the whole thing?! Is that it?" She frowned at her creator and shook her head, in both confusion and frustration, at the conflicting messages she seemed to be receiving.

"No, no, no," Dr. Wakeman hastily clarified. "I'm not saying to just forget about it. I'm not saying that at all. I'm merely questioning whether it's advisable to confront him in-person, right _now,_ this very minute." She paused when she saw the look of growing consternation on her robotic daughter's face. "All I'm suggesting," she continued, but more gently, "is that, under the present circumstances, it might perhaps be better to simply…leave him alone for now. Respect his obvious desire for privacy, and let him be. At least, for now. Just let him have his…alone time, to…you know, 'cool off,' and deal with…_whatever_ it is that he's going through. And then, perhaps you could try again later, some other time. Monday morning, perhaps, when you see him at school. Maybe you could approach him in between classes and try making your apology then."

"Forget it!" Jenny said. "I already _tried_ that today, and where did it get me? Nowhere! I ended up going on a wild-goose chase all over school and eventually, all over town, and the only result I got was, Sheldon's now more scared of me than ever! And after all the trouble I went through today trying to find him, who knows if he's going to do another disappearing-act and vanish again to who-knows-where on Monday? And then I'll have to go through the whole same stupid routine all over again?" She shook her head. "No…no… I've put this off for too long now as it is! I'm not putting it off any longer! I've _got_ to talk to him _now,_ before he gets it into his head to go off and disappear again!"

Dr. Wakeman dropped her gaze for a moment; when she looked up at Jenny again, her eyes revealed a deep sadness, as though they held back a painful secret that she dared not express openly.

"XJ-9…" She said gently; then, "Jenny… Sit down. Please."

"No. I don't want to sit down. If you have something to say, just say it."

Dr. Wakeman hesitated, sighed, then regarded her daughter with a pained look in her eyes. Clearly, what she had to say wasn't going to be easy for her to say…but she _had_ to say it. "All right…" she began, softly. "Now…even though I still believe there are any number of legitimate reasons for why Sheldon didn't want to talk to us right now," She went on, choosing her words carefully. "I _do_ nevertheless think that the time has come when we must look at the facts, and consider some…_unpleasant_ possibilities as well."

_Uh-oh…!_ Jenny thought, though she remained silent._ This is not going to be good, whatever it is!_

"Such as…?" she asked, afraid of hearing the answer.

"Well," Dr. Wakeman began, hesitantly. "Although—as I said before, I don't believe that Sheldon…_'hates'_ you—I _do_ think it's safe to say that he probably still feels very…_hurt_ and very… _upset_ with you right now. And that's probably the main reason why he didn't want to talk to you."

"Well, _yeah, obviously,_ Mom! I _know_ that! I'm not stupid!" Jenny exclaimed. "I mean, I've known that ever since last week! Cripes, he's only been avoiding me for two solid weeks in a row now, that's all! That's why I need to _talk_ to him, so I can apologize and get this whole mess straightened out, once and—"

"No, no, Jenny," Dr. Wakeman said gently, holding up a hand to cut her daughter short. "That's not quite what I'm getting at. I mean that he—" She hesitated again; what she had to say would be painful…but the time had come when she _had_ to speak the truth, even if it _was_ painful. "I mean that…it's entirely possible that Sheldon…may not _ever_ want to speak to you again. _Ever."_

The silence that followed was absolute, as Jenny absorbed the full meaning of her creator's words. There it was, her own fears, acknowledged openly and therefore confirmed as a possibility even by her own creator. _I knew it!_ She thought._ Even Mom thinks that Sheldon hates me, even if she won't put it in those exact words! She's thinking the same thing I am! Sheldon __hates__ me!_

As Jenny pondered these thoughts, her lower lip began to tremble. "You mean…" She asked in a pitifully-tiny voice. "You mean, not—not _at all…?_ Not…_ever…?"_ was all she could utter.

"Well, I _do_ think that…we have to be prepared for that as a possibility." Dr. Wakeman replied quietly. "And…if…well, if that _is_ the case, then I doubt he'll be particularly welcoming to you if you simply show up unexpectedly—and uninvited—at his front door. And I _very_ much doubt that he'll be very receptive to anything you might have to say to him, either."

"But—but I want to _apologize—!" _Jenny persisted, her voice now rising in pitch and acquiring a more desperate tone.

"Yes, I understand that. But look, XJ-9," Dr. Wakeman drew a deep breath, trying to remain patient. "If you confront Sheldon now, in-person, barging in on him when he _obviously_ wants to be left alone, then it can only make matters worse. He'll almost certainly regard you as an _intrusion,_ he'll probably resent it, and he'll likely be very defensive towards you; maybe even downright _hostile._ In which case, he'll probably be in an even _less_ receptive mood to listen to your apology." She paused, then continued. "You don't want _that_…do you…?"

Jenny opened her mouth, as though about to object; then closed it again as she reconsidered. Slowly, she lowered her head and her shoulders sagged, as she mulled over her creator's words. Much as she hated to admit it, her creator had a point. "No," she replied, in a tiny, defeated voice. "But—but _Mom…!"_ She said, looking up. "What else can I do? How _else_ am I supposed to apologize and make up with him if I can't even _talk_ to him?!"

"Well…" Dr. Wakeman said, looking upward, her finger tapping thoughtfully on her chin. "Perhaps…instead of confronting him face-to-face, you might try some other, less direct approach?"

Jenny regarded her creator with a quizzical look.

"Perhaps you could try writing him a letter…?" Dr. Wakeman elaborated. "Or—better yet—send him an email. You know, put your apology in writing. That way, you could still tell him how you feel, how sorry you are and so forth, but tell it to him in a less direct, and therefore less…_confrontational_ manner_."_ She paused. "Mightn't that be better…?"

"Why?" Jenny asked, frowning slightly. "Why would that be better?"

Dr. Wakeman hesitated.

"Well…?" Jenny asked, with just the tiniest trace of impatience. "Why would that be better?" She began to get the uncomfortable feeling that there was still something more her creator wasn't telling her…and that she wasn't going to like it, whatever it was.

"Well, it's simply that…"_ Oh dear, how do I put this delicately?_ Dr. Wakeman wondered. "Well, given the fact that Sheldon is probably feeling very…_vulnerable_ right now, your—how shall I put it?—your physical presence, confronting him in person, face-to-face, might be more than a bit…_intimidating_ to him…"

As soon as she uttered the words, she regretted it. For the moment Jenny heard them, her face fell, and it seemed at one point as though she was about to break into tears again. "You mean he'll feel _threatened_ by me…right?" She said, quietly. "Because I'm such a scary-looking, ugly mechanical _freak!" _She sighed, and with a slow, sad shake of her head, she went on, softly: "Even after all this time, I _still_ sometimes forget…"

"Now, don't say that!" Dr. Wakeman cried. "Don't _ever_ say that! You're _not_ a freak!"

"Well, it's _true…!_ Isn't it…?" Jenny said, turning away and wiping her eyes. "I'm so scary-looking, I finally even managed to scare Sheldon! I _never_ thought _that_ would happen…but it finally _did!"_

"No, it's _not_ true!" Dr. Wakeman exclaimed. "I've told you, you're _not_ a freak! I've told you that a googolplex number of times! You're _not_ a freak! And you're neither 'ugly' nor 'scary', either! You're…_beautiful!_ You're _unique!_ You're beautiful in your own unique, special way!"

"Yeah, sure…" Jenny muttered sadly, clearly not accepting her creator's assurances.

"No, no you _are!"_ Dr. Wakeman insisted. "Jenny, listen to me! You're like a rare, precious gem that is valuable _because_ it is rare and unique. As a matter of fact, the more rare and unique something is in this world, the _more_ valuable it tends to be. It's called 'scarcity value.' And it's the same with you. There is only _one_ 'Jenny' in the whole world! Don't _ever_ be ashamed of that! Ever! Be proud of it! Because you _are_ special and unique, and yes, you _are_ beautiful, in your own unique way!"

Slowly, Jenny turned and regarded creator. She knew that the kind words offered were only intended to reassure her and boost her self-confidence, and she appreciated them on that basis; but deep down, she knew that they were not true, and that no one else in town—or in the rest of the world— would ever share that opinion.

"At any rate," Dr. Wakeman went on after a long silence. "What I was getting at was simply that…well, after that…bad experience that you and Sheldon had out at that secret-agent compound that day, he probably doesn't feel entirely—"

"Safe?"

"_Comfortable—_around you right now. At least_,_ not until he knows for sure that you're no longer angry at him and that you mean him no harm. That's all I meant." She paused, allowing her daughter to absorb her words.

Jenny remained silent, but from the look on her face, it was clear to Dr. Wakeman that she was at least…listening…and _thinking._

"But you see, with a letter," Dr. Wakeman went on. "You could still express all your thoughts, your feelings, make your apology just as fully and completely as you wish, and say anything else you have on your mind, anything that you feel you need to express to him. Get it all out of your system and out in the open, say what you need to say to him, while still allowing Sheldon the necessary… _distance_ and privacy that he evidently needs and desires right now. And, with a letter, he'll also have plenty of time to read your words very carefully, re-read them, think about them, and fully consider and reflect upon them. He'll have time to really think about you and how much you truly mean to him, and about how he really feels about _you._ Once he's had time to do all of that, then, later on, when the opportunity presents itself for the two of you to speak to each other directly, face-to-face, I think you'll find that he'll be much more receptive and responsive to you, and more accepting of your apology." She paused, allowing Jenny to fully consider her idea, then added. "I do think that's the best option, under the circumstances. I really do."

Jenny carefully thought about her creator's suggestion. Writing a letter _did_ sound like an awfully good idea, she had to admit, one that held a lot of appeal for her. And besides, at this point, she was beginning to run out of options, and she was therefore willing to try _anything._ But almost as she soon as she considered the idea, her mind conjured up an imagined scenario in which she would actually write out such a letter—or email—pouring out her heart, expressing her most sincere, heartfelt apology and feelings of sorrow, remorse and regret, humbly asking for Sheldon's forgiveness, after which there would follow countless, agonizing hours and days of waiting in suspense for Sheldon to receive the message and read it, followed by more waiting in suspense for a response… She then imagined a resultant scenario in which Sheldon angrily crumpled up the letter and tossed it into a wastebasket in disgust, or—if it were an email—that he would simply hit the 'delete' key without even bothering to read the message at all. She shuddered, as the imagined scenarios appeared in her mind, just as vividly as if they had actually taken place.

And there was also the possibility that Sheldon could just take it into his head to 'disappear' again, to who-knew-where and for who-knew-how-long, in which case there was no telling _how_ long a letter or email might simply sit there, unopened and unread. It could sit there for hours…or days…or weeks. Or it could sit there _forever,_ without ever having been read at all. During which time, Jenny would have no choice but to simply wait it out, in agonizing suspense, never knowing if her message had been read or not, never knowing if she would receive a reply or not, never knowing if her apology had been accepted or not. And never knowing if she'd been _forgiven_…or not.

And finally, she doubted her own ability to adequately express in writing the intense feelings of guilt, remorse, sorrow and shame that she felt; that a written message could adequately capture the intense emotional turmoil she felt brewing deep within her, which seemed at times to be on the verge of overwhelming her. And she doubted that writing such feelings down would provide an adequate release for them, either. For reasons she couldn't even quite understand herself, and couldn't adequately express to her creator, she just needed to _see_ Sheldon, and apologize to him _in-person,_ and know, in her own heart of hearts, that he didn't _hate_ her, and that he would _forgive_ her. Writing a message in _any_ form simply wouldn't accomplish what she felt she had to do.

In the end, Jenny shook her head. "No…no…" she said. "I can't write him a letter…! Or an email! And I can't wait a few days—or even a few more hours either, for that matter!—to find out whether or not he'll _maybe_ read a message I send him and then _maybe _forgive me, and then _maybe_ be willing to ever speak to me again!" She shuddered as a new consideration occurred to her. "And I _can't_ go through another night of bad dreams! I just _can't!"_ She shook her head again. "No, no, Mom, I've _got_ to see Sheldon _now,_ clear this thing up with him once and for all, and not leave it hanging over my head any longer!"

"But XJ-9, if you'll only—"

"No!" Jenny declared with finality. Then, more gently, she said, "Mom…I hear what you're saying. And I…I understand. I really do. I get it. But this is something I just _have_ to do, don't you see? I just _have_ to see this thing through _now_, in my own way. I _have_ to…" She looked into her creator's eyes, hoping to find some understanding and sympathy there, as she struggled to find the words to express the complex and conflicting emotions she felt. "I just _can't_ leave this thing hanging over me for even one more night. I can't explain it…but I just _have_ to…_see_ Sheldon… just to know, in my own mind, that…that he's all right…and try one last time to talk to him directly…and…and somehow make everything right with us again…somehow…" She gestured helplessly with her hands, struggling to convey the complex emotions she felt but which defied her powers to express. "I just have to…_see_ him…and…_know_ that—that he doesn't…_hate_ me." Her voice trailed off weakly as she lowered her head, her eyes tightly shut.

Dr. Wakeman regarded her robotic daughter in interminable silence, narrowly scrutinizing her for any additional signs of emotional strain. Jenny had faced and overcome many challenges over the years since she had been first activated, but she had never before encountered a situation quite like this one. This was something quite new and unique, much more subtle in its nature, and in its details; and its consequences were far more emotionally precarious. Handling it successfully would require a certain delicacy and finesse, and Dr. Wakeman was not at all sure her robotic daughter was fully capable of such subtleties just yet.

_But…_ Dr. Wakeman thought, _on the other hand, she __is__ going to have to face situations like this eventually, and be able to handle them on her own…if she's ever going to be accepted as fully human… Especially when I'm no longer here to guide her and advise her. She __is__ going to have to learn to use her own judgment in such situations, make her own decisions, and resolve such matters on her own in time… She'll __have__ to…or my work will be meaningless, the conscience program a complete failure…_

"Please, Mom…? Please…?" Jenny softly pleaded, her head bowed, her hands clasped together. "Please try to understand… I can't explain it… and I don't even fully understand it myself… I don't know if this is that conscience program you were talking about this morning or what…but this is something I feel inside me, something that I just _have_ to do! I _have_ to…! _Please_ let me go over now and…at least _try_ one last time to make things right_. Please _let me try to handle it in my own way… _Please…? Mom…? Please…?_ I _have_ to… I just _have_ to…" Her voice dwindled to a whisper as she fought the urge to start crying again.

Seeming eons passed, and little by little, and against every fiber of her instinct and better judgment, Dr. Wakeman gradually, incrementally began to relent. "Well…" she began tentatively. "I _still _think that confronting him in-person now is a supremely bad idea. Nevertheless…if you insist on it, if you really, truly believe that it's absolutely necessary and the only way to resolve this matter, and you refuse to consider any other alternatives…" She paused, waiting to be sure that she had Jenny's full attention, then she continued. "Then at least promise me one thing."

"What?" Jenny asked, looking up hopefully.

"Please…go _easy_ with him. Be…_gentle_. Be patient with him. Try not to be…" She hesitated, trying to find just the right words. _"Intimidating_ to him in any way." She paused, and her features grew hard and stern. "And for goodness' sake, don't go losing that temper of yours again! No matter what he says or does! Do not lose your temper!"

"I _won't,_ I _won't,_ Mom, I _promise!_ I'll—I'll be gentle. I'll be patient, I _promise!"_

"And above all—_above all!—_whatever you do, do _not—_I repeat, do _not _use your powers against him! Don't—" She momentarily choked. "Don't…_hurt_ him again! _Do you understand?"_

Jenny shuddered at the painful reminder of her transgression, and hung her head in shame. "I _won't,_ Mom, I _won't!_ I _promise!_ Never again!_"_ she said, meekly.

"Because that _is_ how this whole trouble got started in the first place, remember!" Dr. Wakeman eyed her robotic daughter narrowly, with a chilly scowl.

"_I know, I know…!"_ Jenny whimpered with another shudder, her eyes tightly shut, to avoid her creator's penetrating gaze.

"And one more thing. Please try to…you know, _gauge_ the situation. If Sheldon absolutely refuses to speak to you under _any_ circumstances, if he even _says_ as much and won't even come to the door, then _please_ don't… _insist_ on it_._ Do you understand? Don't try to… force the issue."

"But—but _Mom…!"_ Jenny whined.

"Don't 'but Mom' me. _Listen_ to me. _Trust_ me on this." Dr. Wakeman said, switching to a gentler tone. "Just…_trust_ me. Because, believe me, if you try to force the issue by insisting, then _that_ can only make the situation worse. So if he really, truly won't speak to you, under any circumstances…then I want you to simply drop the matter for now, and consider other options, such as those we've already discussed."

Jenny sighed. "You mean like writing a letter or email, right?"

"Exactly."

"All right." Jenny conceded with a resigned sigh and a nod. "I'll—I'll do that. If he really, truly won't talk to me no matter what I say or do, then—then I'll just come back home and try doing it your way. I'll—I'll write him a letter or—whatever…" She shrugged. "After all, what choice do I have?" And it was true; Jenny was at this point running out of options.

"Although…" Dr. Wakeman said, just a bit more sharply than she'd intended. "I _still_ think you should try a letter or email first! Because I'm not at all convinced that going over there right this minute is a good idea!" _And the odds of this turning into a disaster,_ she thought, _are quite high!_

Jenny opened her mouth, about to object. But Dr. Wakeman raised a hand, stopping her and continued, "But…I won't say another word about it. It's your decision, you've made it, and you'll have to live with the consequences of it—whatever they may be."

She then took deep breath, slowly released it, and resumed her purely-objective, clinical tone. "So…that being the case…then…describe your condition."

Jenny wiped her eyes, and tried her best to adopt a calm, placid demeanor. "I'm—I'm _fine,_ Mom; really, I am," she said. "I—I'm sorry I got…upset a little while ago. It won't happen again. But I'm—I'm okay now, I really am." But even as she spoke the words, small, but noticeable twitches appeared in her left eye and at the corner of her mouth, and her voice acquired a faint, but noticeable quaver.

"_Describe your condition!"_ Dr. Wakeman repeated, firmly. "Be specific. Give me a specific status report of your current emotional state."

Jenny sighed, but complied with her creator's command. "Stable. But…" She hesitated, then went on. "Anxious…and..." She hesitated again; then, with a resigned shrug, she continued. "All right, _hurt_…I feel _hurt…_ And_…frustrated_... And…sad... _Very_ sad…" Another, longer pause followed; then she went on, quietly, her voice growing softer with each word. "And…guilty… Ashamed... _Very _ashamed." Another long pause followed. "But—" She concluded, her voice now resuming its more-familiar firm, decisive tone. "Stable, just the same. In-control. And…ready and willing to correct my mistakes…and make amends."

"Are you _sure?"_ Dr. Wakeman asked cautiously. "Are you _sure_ you're able to handle this situation?"

Jenny nodded. "Yes, Mother. I'm—I'm fine now. I did—" she hesitated, then went on, more truthfully. "All right, I _do_…still feel hurt… _And_ frustrated… _And_ anxious…but…I…I can manage. I'll be all right."

"Are you sure you don't want me to…drive over with you and…help you talk to Sheldon?" she suggested tactfully. "You know, to help _explain_ things for you?"

Jenny sighed in mild, embarrassed annoyance. "No, Mother; I _can_ handle it myself. After all, I'm a big girl now! A _very _big girl!" she smiled crookedly, a personal habit she'd unconsciously picked up from her creator. "Besides…it's _my_ mess, so that makes it _my_ responsibility to clean up. Right?" She smiled more broadly, hoping to reassure her creator.

But Dr. Wakeman's face remained grim, clearly still not convinced.

"I'm okay. Really." Jenny nodded again. "And I _promise_ I'll be patient and gentle with Sheldon. I won't be…'threatening' or 'intimidating' to him. I promise."

"Well…all right, then…" Dr. Wakeman replied guardedly, failing utterly to conceal her lingering doubts on the matter. _Ohhh, I hope I'm doing the right thing!_ she thought._ Letting her go over there now, in the state she's in! She's pretty close to the edge now as it is! There's no telling __what's__ liable to happen over there…!_

Jenny started to turn for the door again, then paused, frowning slightly.

Dr. Wakeman noticed. "What is it now?" she asked, hoping that Jenny had changed her mind at the last minute.

"I still don't know what I'm going to say to him, though," Jenny said quietly, as she slowly turned to face her creator. "I mean, I want to apologize, of course, _obviously._ But what am I gonna say to him _first, _to get him to open the door in the first place? If he wouldn't even talk to me on the phone, then he's _definitely_ not going to open the door to me!" _Especially if I __am__ scary and intimidating to him now!_ She thought, sadly.

_That's exactly the point __I__ was trying to make!_ Dr. Wakeman thought with mild irritation, though she remained silent. She wondered for a brief moment if her robotic daughter _ever_ listened to a word she said.

"And even if I _can_ somehow get him to open the door and talk to me," Jenny went on. "What then? What'll I _say_ to him? I mean, I want to tell him I'm sorry, of course, but…but _how?"_ In the back of her mind, a tiny fear began to rear its ugly head, that when the crucial moment came, and she found herself face-to-face with Sheldon at last…she might somehow lose her nerve, and be unable to speak the necessary words to utter her apology. "I need to…sort of ease into it…somehow…" She said, quietly.

"You need an 'ice-breaker,' so to speak, is that it?" Dr. Wakeman suggested, picking up on Jenny's train of thought. "Something just to get the conversation started?"

"Yeah! Yeah, that's it exactly!" Jenny replied. "'Cuz otherwise, what am I gonna say? _'Oh hi, Sheldon, how are you? How've you been? Me? Oh, I'm swell… Oh, by the way, I'm sorry I blasted you with my laser-cannons the other day. But we're still friends, right?'"_ She shook her head. "Somehow, I don't think that's gonna go over so hot!"

"No, no, I see your point," Dr. Wakeman replied, stroking her chin, tapping it thoughtfully, as she tried to think of alternatives to suggest.

"I need something that I can say or do, to sort of… put him at ease, put him in just the right mood to listen," Jenny said. "You know, so he won't slam the door in my face or…whatever."

"Yes, yes, quite right…" Dr. Wakeman murmured thoughtfully. "Perhaps…perhaps…you could bring along an olive-branch. You know: a peace offering of some kind, something you know he likes, as a token to show him that you're sorry and want to make amends and be friends again."

"Yeah! Yeah, that's a great idea!" Jenny exclaimed, her face brightening immediately. "Like we did before, when we fixed up his _Captain Crush_ statuette for him! That'll do the trick, I think!" Her smile faded then, almost as rapidly as it appeared. "But what can I bring him? What does he like?" She folded her arms and thought deeply. _Let's see…what the heck __does__ Sheldon like, anyway?_ She wondered._ Let's see…he likes electronic gadgetry…comic books…science-fiction…gaming stuff… Matter of fact, if I'd thought of it, I could've maybe picked up a gaming-piece or something at Legendary Warriors when I was there earlier today! But he's got the entire Gargoyles of Gavilan series already, though…and several others, besides. So that's out… Let's see… what else __does__ he like…?_ She drew a blank at that point, unable to think any further._ Ohhh, I sure wish I'd paid more attention when he used to blather on about his geeky interests!_ She thought.

"Perhaps…perhaps I could whip up a batch of cookies for you to take to him?" Dr. Wakeman offered, trying her best to remedy the situation—and to play for time. "He _loves_ my cookies, as I recall."

"Yeah…yeah…" Jenny replied thoughtfully, as she considered the suggestion. "That's an idea… But they'll take too long to mix and bake and everything, and there's just no time." She shook her head, rejecting the idea. "Like I said, I have to go over there _now,_ while I know where he is, before he has a chance to slip away again." She frowned deeply in thought…

_Oh well, it was worth a try!_ Dr. Wakeman thought idly.

Suddenly, Jenny's eyes lit up and her entire face brightened. "I've got it!" she exclaimed. "If there's one thing Sheldon likes even better than cookies, it's fixing things!" She declared, beaming widely at her idea. "It'll be a peace-offering, by giving him something to do that he likes, _and_ it'll give me something to say to him as an 'ice-breaker' to get the conversation started!" Her smile widened, pleased with her idea. "All I need is something for him to fix, that's all. It's gotta be something challenging for him though; something to really grab his attention and keep him interested, something that he just can't wait to get his hands on to take apart!"

"Well…now, hold on… Wait a minute," Dr. Wakeman objected. "Let me see if I understand you correctly. Are you saying that your plan is to precede your apology to Sheldon…_by asking him to repair something _for you?_ To do a favor _for you?" She asked, making no attempt to conceal the doubtful look on her face. "Have I got this about right?"

"Um…well…yes, basically…" Jenny said, her initial enthusiasm over her idea beginning to diminish.

Dr. Wakeman shook her head, her arms folded. "I don't know, XJ-9… If you'll pardon me for saying this, I don't think that's a good idea at all. _Not at all._ Nor do I believe it's going to work."

"Why not…?" Jenny asked, crestfallen.

"Well, it seems to me that asking someone to do a favor for you is a _terrible_ way to begin an apology." She sighed. "I mean, if _anyone_ in this case should do a favor for anyone as a prelude to making amends, it ought to be _you._ After all, it's _you_ who wronged _him,_ not the other way around."

"Well…yeah…I know that, Mom, but—but—" Jenny said, momentarily flustered. "But see, you don't _understand—!"_

"No, you're right! I _don't_ understand!" Dr. Wakeman agreed with a frown. "I don't understand it at all! In fact, it makes absolutely no sense to me!"

"Well, that's because you don't know _Sheldon!"_ Jenny insisted. "I do! Sure, I know it doesn't make sense; but if you knew Sheldon like _I_ do, you'd _know_ that he just loves tinkering with things and fixing them up. He does it all the time. That's just the way he _is._ I mean, half the time, he does it without even thinking. The moment he sees something's busted, practically the first thing out of his mouth is, 'Oooo, oooo, can I fix that?' Or, 'Oooh, how I'd love to get my hands on that baby!' Or _something_ like that. And given half a chance, within five seconds, he'd have the thing taken apart and in pieces, using nothing but the tools and gadgets he's got on his pen-knife! I mean, he does that kind of thing _anyway,_ whether anybody asks him to do it or not. And if he saw something _really_ challenging, something he'd just _love_ to get his hands on, there'd be no stopping him. Wild horses couldn't keep him away from it."

Dr. Wakeman still didn't look the least bit convinced, so Jenny tried again on a different tack.

"It's just a way to get his attention, that's all; just a way to get him to hold still long enough to _listen_ to me. Just so he'll do something other than slam the door in my face or…whatever. Once I can get his attention and get him listening, _then_ I can ease into making my apology."

Dr. Wakeman wearily shook her head. Clearly, she still had considerable doubts. "I don't know, XJ-9…I just don't know…" She said. "I think you're making this far more complicated than it needs to be, and I really don't see any point in it. I mean, bringing over a 'peace offering' made sense, but this…?" She shook her head. "I mean, what's wrong with keeping it simple? Simply tell him you're sorry? How difficult can that be?" She folded her arms impatiently with a disapproving shake of her head. "I still think that asking a favor of someone is a _terrible_ way to begin an apology to them!"

"No, no, Mom, _trust_ me; I _know_ it'll work!" Jenny insisted. She then began looking around the kitchen. "Let's see, now…" she muttered, thoughtfully. "What can I bring him to fix…? Something interesting and challenging… Something that he'll _love_ to take apart and put back together again…"

Dr. Wakeman watched her daughter in increasingly nervous silence.

"Mom?" Jenny said, turning back to face her creator. "Are there any kitchen-appliances that are broken?"

"Um…no, Dear; everything's in perfect working order."

"Oh. Well, can I break one of them, then? The toaster, maybe? Or how 'bout the microwave?"

"I—I'd really rather you didn't, Dear…"

"Oh. Well then, how 'bout the blender? Can I bust the blender?"

"Ummmmmm…no…I…I'd really rather you didn't break any more of my appliances, XJ-9…" Dr. Wakeman said as she struggled to unscramble the obscure, convoluted reasoning behind Jenny's idea. "Besides, I just finished getting them all repaired, after the _last_ time you accidentally broke them."

"Oh… Well then, how about maybe something down in the lab? Can I break some of your lab-equipment?"

"Um—no, Sweetie; I'd really rather you didn't break my lab-equipment either, if you don't mind… You see, I—I _need_ them, Sweetie…" She spoke softly, gently, hoping that Jenny would reconsider and abandon her bizarre idea, and come up with a better, more sensible, and more _rational_ alternative.

At last, Jenny's face lit up again as another idea struck her. "Aha! I've got it!" With that, she turned on her heel and stepped briskly out the back door, heading towards the garage, her creator following closely on her heels.

"Um, Mom? Can I borrow your hammer?" Jenny asked over her shoulder.

"Um…well, yes, I suppose, but…," Dr. Wakeman replied, with a puzzled frown, as she hurried to keep up. "But what do you need it for?"

"Well, I need it to fix something."

When they reached the garage and stepped inside, Dr. Wakeman pulled a toolbox from a shelf, opened it and retrieved a hammer from inside, handing it to her daughter. Jenny took the hammer, and proceeded to repeatedly pound her right forearm with it. Again and again and again she pounded, until at last, the armor-plating on her arm was sufficiently bent, warped and misshapen to her satisfaction. Dr. Wakeman merely stared blankly, as though now thoroughly convinced that her robotic daughter had really, truly lost her mind.

"There now," Jenny said with a contented smile on her face, as she handed the hammer back to her creator. "That's that."

"Umm…why did you do that, Sweetie…?" Dr. Wakeman asked softly, trying to maintain a calm and even tone to her voice.

"Well, now it looks like something that _has_ to be fixed." She stated matter-of-factly, holding up her damaged arm, as though the reason for it should be plainly obvious. "See?"

But Dr. Wakeman continued to stare blankly at her robotic daughter. "Yes…yes, I can't argue with that…" she said evenly. "It does indeed need to be fixed now. Although precisely _why_ you did it, I'm afraid I still don't quite…" She couldn't even utter the words to finish the sentence.

"Oh, but Mom, don't you see? This'll give Sheldon something to fix! Something I _know_ he'll enjoy working on!" She smiled broadly, proud of her idea. _"And,_ it'll solve that _other_ problem, too."

"What other problem?" Dr. Wakeman asked, now utterly lost by her daughter's bizarre reasoning.

"You know…about…what you said earlier, about my being 'intimidating.' Well, see, _this _way," she held up her damaged arm. "I won't be quite so 'intimidating' to him. Now, I'll be more _vulnerable_ to him, instead. See?"

Dr. Wakeman's only response was to raise a single eyebrow. "Ooookay…" she replied cautiously, still trying to untangle the convoluted knots of her daughter's logic.

"Yeah! And if I know Sheldon, once he sees that I'm…well…you know…_broken,_ then I think he won't feel…_scared_ of me. In fact, I think instead he'll maybe even feel…_sorry_ for me…and maybe be more willing to…_listen_ to me. And be more willing to…accept my apology. Get it?"

"I see…" Dr. Wakeman said. Little by little, the thick fog of Jenny's illogic began to dissipate, and her plan gradually became clear to her creator and began to form some semblance of sense. As it did, a slow, crooked smile crept to Dr. Wakeman's face, and her eyes narrowed knowingly as she regarded her daughter. "So…when all else fails, play the _'damsel in distress,'_ eh?"she asked wryly.

Jenny blushed, embarrassed. "Something like that," she smiled. "And yeah, I know, I know; it sounds silly! But I think it could really work! Believe me, like I said: I _know_ Sheldon, and I know how he thinks. And I _know_ this is bound to get his attention. And once I've done that, and he's…you know, busy working on my arm, then from there I can ease into making my apology." _Also,_ Jenny thought hopefully—but didn't speak aloud—_Maybe…just maybe…it'll also remind him a little bit of how we first met… Maybe…he'll think of that…and remember how he __used__ to feel about me before…how he used to…__like__ me… Maybe…_

Dr. Wakeman shook her head, still unconvinced of the soundness of the plan—which _still_ didn't entirely make sense to her. "I don't know, XJ-9…" She said. "It all sounds quite mad to me…not to mention unnecessarily complicated! But…well…perhaps…I suppose it _could_ work… But…but don't you think it's a bit drastic? I mean, really now, XJ-9! Smashing up your arm? Just to get Sheldon's attention? And make him feel sorry for you? Honestly, XJ-9! Sometimes I wonder about those logic circuits of yours! And suppose your plan doesn't work? Then that means that _I'll_ be up all night, having to repair the damage myself!" she grumbled with a frown.

"It _will_ work, Mom; trust me! It'll work, or I don't know Sheldon!"

"Well…all right…" Dr. Wakeman finally conceded, still not at all convinced that this was a good idea—or even a sound one. _Oh, I sure wish I had spent just a little more time on algorithms in her programming than I did on heuristics!_ She thought. _Maybe it would have reduced some of this kind of nonsense!_

But Dr. Wakeman had been through this sort of thing with her daughter enough times before to know that it was futile to try and argue with a teenage robot whose mind was made up. And, she had to admit, that however foolish and illogical the plan might seem, there _was_ nevertheless the remote chance that it _could_ work. She had to admit that, if nothing else, Jenny's instincts on this sort of thing often proved to be remarkably on-target, and she had a fairly good success-rate in the past. Dr. Wakeman couldn't explain it…but her robotic daughter's hunches often seemed to somehow work themselves out in the end.

Still, Dr. Wakeman had lingering doubts. "But listen to me, XJ-9," she said. "Remember what I said. If your plan doesn't work, if Sheldon _still_ refuses to talk to you—even _with_ your damaged arm—then _please_ don't insist upon it. Do you understand? Don't force the issue. I really cannot overemphasize the importance of that."

"I won't, I won't, Mom," Jenny said reassuringly to her creator. "I won't…'insist' or 'force the issue,' I promise." With that, she turned on her heel and headed out the garage side-door. "Well…I'm off," she said. "I'll be home a little later."

"All right, Sweetie. I hope everything turns out all right." Dr. Wakeman replied. "Oh, that reminds me!" she exclaimed. "Please let me know how everything turns out as soon as you get home. It's _very_ important. Whether your plan is successful or not, whether it goes well or not, you _must_ tell me the results, one way or the other. It's _vitally_ important that you do so."

"I will, I will, Mom," Jenny replied, slightly puzzled at her creator's insistence on the issue.

"Well…all right, then." Dr. Wakeman replied, with a small nod and a faint smile. "Good luck, Sweetie." She patted her daughter on her undamaged shoulder and waved her off.

"Thanks. 'Bye, Mom!" Jenny smiled, then turned and blasted off into the twilit sky.

* * *

End Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10--A Perfect Storm

**Resolution**

A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic  
By Shvique

_When naked souls and raw, primal emotions collide like the elemental forces of nature, the results are seldom pretty… But in the process, Jenny learns a few things about Sheldon—and about herself—that she didn't know before._

**Chapter 10—A Perfect Storm**

Sheldon lay sprawled on his bed in the dwindling light of oncoming evening, staring at the ceiling in the foulest mood of his entire life, a by-now-familiar combination of lingering sadness, angry, bitter resentment, and weary, resigned disgust. It had been a rough day for him and he was about at the end of his rope. The last two weeks had been extremely difficult for him to begin with, and things seemed to grow worse for him with each passing day. That morning had been a relative breeze for him, what with Jenny being absent from school and all, but by lunchtime, things rapidly began to unravel for him, and continued to deteriorate all afternoon. He'd gained some particularly disturbing insights during his lunchtime reading, after which he'd just narrowly avoided running into Jenny numerous times throughout the remainder of the afternoon, avoiding what he was sure would be another unpleasant, possibly even violent scene between them. Every time he'd spotted her was like reopening an old wound wide and pouring salt into it. He'd even cut the last two classes of the day, just to avoid her and all the unhappy memories now associated with her. Even the experience of watching her from a distance from the doorway of Mezmer's, as she soared through the skies above Tremorton, was now a source of unutterable heartache to him. Heartache…and renewed resentment and anger.

He couldn't even bear to talk to Dr. Wakeman on the phone just now. He _hated_ to simply hang up on her that way, just as he'd hated having to lie to her about Jenny's actions at the secret-agency compound; after all, he _liked_ Dr. Wakeman, he had enormous respect and admiration for her, and it pained him to have to treat her so disrespectfully. But in his present mood, he just couldn't bear to talk to her about the incident at the compound and re-live the entire miserable experience all over again. He just couldn't. Especially not now, given his present feelings towards Dr. Wakeman's robotic creation…

Now that there was no longer any doubt in his mind as to the level of loathing and contempt that Jenny must hold for him—feelings that he was now beginning to reciprocate—Sheldon had now firmly decided that the only practical way to stay away from her altogether was to simply change schools. It was the only solution, really; it would be the best for everyone concerned. Transferring to another school would spare himself the continuing, agonizing, daily heartache of unrequited love, the constant pain of unceasing rejection and humiliation…and lately, a growing fear, and bitter, repressed anger as well. And, of course, it would also deprive Jenny of the opportunity to say or do anything humiliating or hurtful to him ever again.

And yet, despite his bitterness, and even with his mind made up on the matter, he nevertheless released a tiny sob at the thought of never seeing Jenny again…ever… Accompanying this was a last, lingering regret over the happiness that could have been theirs to enjoy…but was never, he now realized, ever meant to be…

But then he remembered how she had turned against him, her terrible, cruel betrayal and attack upon him, and his sadness immediately vanished, replaced by renewed outrage and anger, and his blood began to boil all over again…

_I shouldn't shed any tears about never seeing the robot-girl anymore!_ He argued with himself._ I oughta be glad, in fact! Yeah…! And I __am__ glad, too! Now that I think about it, after the way she treated me, I'm __glad__ I'll never see her again! _

He shook his head. _No…no…_ he reminded himself. _Don't even bother thinking about her anymore. She's not worth it… Think only about the plan…stick to the plan…__only__ the plan!_ _But making that plan become a reality…the details of __that__ still need to be worked out… But I __will__ make it happen, no question about it! All I have to worry about from now on is keeping my GPA high and acing the SATs when the time comes. So I'll focus on that. After I transfer to Poly Tech and graduate, then from there I bet I can get into Roarke University… Or maybe even the Galt Institute of Technology… I know Roarke's got one of the best science and tech programs in the country…and Galt turns out more physicists and engineers every year than anyplace else I know of! They're both expensive, though…but if I can keep my grades high enough, then maybe I can get a scholarship or something, like the Reardon Prize maybe, or something like it… Either way, if I can do that, then I'm __outta__ here! No question about it! Outta here and on to bigger and better things! I'll turn my back on this crummy little town __and__ get away from the mean robot-girl, and I'll __never__ look back! Ever!_

He nodded his head in silent affirmation to himself. _I'll be out of here and on my way to a whole new, better, happier life,_ he vowed. _One without the mean robot-girl to make my life miserable and make me feel like a nothing and a nobody! Good-bye, Tremorton! Good-bye, mean robot-girl! Good-bye, childish beliefs in heroic ideals, and foolish notions of romance and love! Good-bye to all that junk! I'm done with it! I'm done with it __all__! Yeah…! It'll be a better life at Poly Tech…and beyond! One that'll be __way__ better than __this__!_

And, in addition to his plans for the future, there still remained that _other_ matter, the very large, last remaining detail hidden away in the secret compartment of his garage/workshop… He then directed his thoughts to that matter, as it was one problem, at least, over which he still had some immediate degree of control.

It was also the last remaining painful reminder of his former, foolish devotion to _her,_ and for that reason alone, he wanted to be rid of it once and for all. Then…and only then…could he at last move forward and get on with his life.

_There's only one thing left to do,_ he thought. _I've been putting it off for days now… Might as well get started soon… There's no real reason to keep it around any longer… It's only a stupid, childish relic from a time of stupid beliefs in childish nonsense anyway, and it's long outlived its purpose… I don't even know why I kept it this long. It never did me much good anyway… I sure don't need it anymore, and I haven't even used it in months… _

_Tomorrow morning, then, without fail…_he decided with a nod of finality. _Tomorrow…I start dismantling Silver Shell…_

Just then, he heard a sharp _whoosh_ just outside his bedroom-window. With a start, he immediately recognized it as the same sound he'd heard earlier that afternoon, when he was at Mezmer's; the same sound he'd come to know so well over the last couple of years; the sound that, in former, happier times, had once caused his ears to perk up in eager, excited anticipation, but which now caused his flesh to crawl in fear and dread.

_Oh, no…!_ he thought with a shudder._ Oh, no…!_ _It can't be…! It can't be…!_

Moments later, the doorbell rang downstairs, and he cringed.

Cautiously, he crept over to his window and slid the pane open. He picked up a small, pocket-sized mirror from his dresser and held it out over the edge of the windowsill, peering into the mirror to get a peek at whoever was at the front door down below. In the mirror's reflection, he saw a familiar gleaming blue and white figure standing at the doorstep.

_Oh, no! _he thought. _It __is__ her! Again! Here and now! Cripes, there's just no getting away from her, is there? She chased me all over school, she was waiting for me at my locker, she was looking for me all over town, she was after me at Mezmer's…and now…here she is __again__, right at my own front door! Brother, she just never gives up! What the heck more does she __want__ from me?!_

The doorbell rang again.

_She probably wants to pulverize me and then give me the whole 'I don't want to see you anymore!' speech for good measure! _he thought. _I'll bet that's it, the whole 'Stay away and leave me alone, Sheldon!' speech… Well, for goodness' sake, I'm leaving her alone! I'm not coming within a million miles of her at school! Or anywhere else, for that matter! What more does she __want__? Or maybe she wants to give me static for hanging up on her mom! Yeah…! I bet that's it! She's going to smack me down for that! She'll smack me around and then get all up in my face and say, 'Don't you ever hang up on my Mom like that again!' or something like that, probably!_ A chill ran down his spine, as he imagined Jenny's words and actions.

_Brother, she's got her nerve! _he thought with a growing pique. _Showing up right at my own front door, just to pound me for who knows what reason! Well, I'll show her! I'll just ignore her. _ _I'll stay real quiet and pretend that no one's home. She'll get tired of waiting and go away._

He slumped down in a corner of his bedroom, his back resting against the wall, his knees raised to his chest. He knew he'd have to face Jenny eventually, probably on Monday morning, at school—_if_ he was ever going back, that is. But there was no good reason to have to face her and deal with her here and now, at his own home, he thought.

"Hey, Sheldon," Jenny called from below. "Hey, Sheldon, come on. Answer the door. I know you're in there. I spotted you through your bedroom window when I flew over here." She paused. "Come on, open up. Please? I won't hurt you, I promise. I just wanna talk to you."

"Yeah? Well, for once, I don't want to talk to _you!_" He muttered quietly, surprised to hear his own voice speaking his thoughts aloud for the first time.

"Come on," Jenny continued. "Please? Don't be afraid. I just wanna talk to you, that's all. Just talk."

"Oh, go away, robot-girl…!" he whispered, dropping his head to his folded arms on his knees. _"Just go away…!"_

"Sheldon _please…!" _Jenny called out, plaintively._ "Talk_ to me… Please…?"

Sheldon sighed when he realized that Jenny apparently wasn't going to take the hint. _It's no use,_ he thought. _There's just no getting away from her… She's just not going to leave me alone, no matter what!_ He sighed, resignedly, as he slowly, unsteadily rose to his feet. _I suppose I'll have to face her sooner or later…and I'm tired of running away… And there's no place left to run to… Might as well just face her here and now, let her say or do whatever mean thing she wants to say or do to me and get it over with…!_

He took a deep breath, trying his best to steady his rattled nerves, then stood up straight. He held his head high, turned and slowly marched out of his bedroom and down the stairs, his steps as slow and ponderous as though he were on his way to the gallows. Though he dreaded it, he was nevertheless ready to face Jenny and deal with whatever consequences awaited him.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and proceeded to the front door, where he opened it a tiny crack and peered outside to find Jenny standing there. He tried to 'read' her mood; it was usually pretty easy—surprisingly easy, in fact, considering she was a robot—but in this case, he couldn't quite tell what kind of mood she was in. She _almost _appeared to be smiling…faintly…almost _pleasantly…_but he couldn't be sure.

"Yes…?" he said in a quiet, timid voice.

Jenny peered through the narrow crack in the open door, trying to get a good look at him. Though it was difficult to see very well in the dim light of the hallway and the waning light of day, she could still see him well enough to make a fair assessment of his current emotional state.

Although there was a time, not so very long ago, when Sheldon would've broken out into a huge smile, accompanied by much blushing and nervous giggles, at such an unexpected visit from the object of his affections, his reaction now was altogether different. His manner was quiet and subdued, and his eyes were red and swollen, Jenny noted, clear evidence that he'd obviously been doing a lot of crying recently. And although she couldn't quite tell for sure in the low light, she _thought_ she detected a faint scowl on his face. And from his trembling hands and his reluctance to open the door by more than a few inches, it was obvious that he was still more than a little frightened of her.

_Cripes!_ She thought. _He looks awful! But at least he's __here__, safe and sound, and in one piece, thank Jobs! And at least I got him to open the door to me! So that's a good start, anyway! So far, so good!_

"Sheldon…?" she began, softly and hesitantly. "Are—are you all right?"

He nodded. "I'm _fine."_ He said quietly, but with a faintly irritated edge to his voice.

"Um…I tried to talk to you earlier today at school…" she went on. "And again later on, after school…but I couldn't find you anywhere…" She hesitated, then continued. "Um—my mom and I were pretty worried about you. We tried calling you, but..." She hesitated again. "Anyway, we thought maybe something might've happened to you, or that you were sick or…something."

_You were worried about me!_ Sheldon thought, bitterly._ Ha! That's a good one! Yeah, right, I'm __sure__ you were!_

"Well, I'm fine," he said edgily, with a frown. "I'm not sick or anything, I'm all right. I'm fine. So there's nothing for you to worry about." He started to close the door again.

"Um…Sheldon…" Jenny held up a hand. "Wait. Please. I—I really want to talk to you some more."

But for his trembling, Sheldon didn't move. He remained frozen in position.

"Don't be afraid," Jenny said, trying her best to sound reassuring. "Please. I won't hurt you, I promise. I just want to talk to you. That's all. Just talk."

Still, he wouldn't budge.

"It'll only take a few minutes," Jenny went on, gently. "Please? It's important; _very_ important."

Sheldon sighed and stepped back, opening the door wide. "All right," he said with a swallow, bracing himself for the worst, fully expecting to be pounded into mincemeat or vaporized with multiple laser blasts. "I'm listening."

Jenny looked into his eyes and saw in them the same frightened-yet-sad look that she'd seen in them the previous week, when he'd accidentally bumped into her in the hallway at school. It was a look, not of the formerly happy, cheerful and good-natured little friend that she had come to know so well over the years, but rather the look of one who had been terribly, grievously wronged by someone, but who had had been left without any recourse to address and correct that wrong; a look which conveyed the deepest and most profound sadness and disillusionment, alloyed with a high degree of both fear and anger.

_Cripes, he looks so…so __pathetic__! _Jenny thought with a shudder._ Like a wounded, frightened little dog…! And—and __I'm__ the one who did it to him! It's all because of __me__ that he's like this now!_ Once again, she felt anew the same terrible pangs of guilt and self-loathing that had so plagued her the night before, and that had tormented her constantly, both consciously and unconsciously, for two solid weeks in a row.

And as she looked into those pitifully-sad, mournful, empty eyes, she felt her resolve weaken in one of the extremely-rare instances of her life. She, who had faced down entire Cluster armadas without even blinking, now found herself at a loss of courage when faced with her quirky little friend. Instead, she felt a barely-controlled urge to break into tears at the pitiful sight he now presented to her. She braced herself to make the most difficult apology she'd ever had to make in her entire life, but as she looked into those deep, sad eyes, she found it increasingly difficult to proceed with each passing nanosecond. _Come on!_ She silently coaxed herself. _Apologize! Tell him you're sorry! You know you want to! You've __got__ to! So come on! Say it already! Tell him you're sorry! Ohhhhh, why is this so difficult? Why can't I get the words out?_ She tried…and tried, opening her mouth to speak…but the words just wouldn't come, and gradually, her courage began to wane, just as she'd feared it would when the crucial moment arrived.

_Okay…!_ _Okay…!_ she thought, desperately._ Go to Plan B…!_

After a seemingly endless awkward silence, accompanied by averted eyes and much shuffling of metallic feet, Jenny timidly reached out her damaged forearm to Sheldon. Immediately, he recoiled from it, as though it were a white-hot branding-iron.

"Um…Sheldon?" She asked in a soft, tiny voice, her head cocked to one side. "Would you…" she paused. "Would you please…fix me…?" Another pause. "Please…?"

Sheldon was so relieved when he heard the incongruous, wholly-unexpected request, he almost laughed. _Naturally! _He thought in bitterly amused disgust. _That's all she wants! To be repaired! Again! Well, that figures! I should've known! That's all she __ever__ wants from me! That's all I'm good for, right? To fix her dings &amp; dents and nothing else! No wonder she was chasing me all over the place earlier! She only wanted her dumb stupid arm repaired, that's all! Well, fine then! I'll repair her! I'll repair her and get it over with and get her out of here! Then she'll be on her way and that'll be the last I'll see of her! 'Til the __next__ time she wants a repair-job, that is! But by then, I'll be long gone and outta this crummy town!_

After an interminable length of time, Sheldon tentatively reached out his still-trembling hands to Jenny's arm, taking it gently in his fingertips, as he closely examined the damaged area. He then shot her a quick, sharp, doubting look; a _'Do you really expect me to believe this?'_ kind of look, the same kind that Jenny had often seen from her creator numerous times in the past, whenever Jenny had tried to run a particularly absurd, far-fetched excuse past her for some minor misdeed or mistake.

Sheldon turned his attention back to the damaged arm. "Hmmm…looks like somebody really wacked it this time," he said in a quiet, controlled monotone. "With a claw-hammer, I'd say, by the looks of it. But…I don't think it's too serious. Not unless the servomotors or hydrolines or neuro-relays got really messed up or something." He paused. "If you'll step out to my workshop, I'll fix it." He released her arm and gingerly stepped past her, through the doorway and outside. Jenny followed him, closing the door behind her.

Neither one spoke a word during the short walk to the garage/workshop. As they stepped inside, Sheldon switched on the overhead lights, then motioned to a high stool in the corner. "Be seated." He said simply, with a motion of his hand. Jenny pulled up the stool and sat down, as Sheldon, his back to her, began retrieving the necessary tools from various bins, shelves and toolboxes. He then turned to face her again and went to work.

_Even now!_ Jenny thought. _Even now, after all that's happened between us, he's still willing to repair me…! Even though I fully expected him to slam the door in my face and tell me to go jump in the lake or something! In spite of everything, he's __still__ willing to take care of me…!_ As she thought this, she suddenly felt even more guilty than ever._ But,_ she thought, grasping hopefully at straws, _On the other hand,_ _maybe it's a good sign! Maybe it means he doesn't hate me as much as I thought he did!_

She watched him in silent fascination, marveling at his level of technical expertise, as he patiently, methodically repaired the damaged portions of her arm. His hands, no longer trembling with fear and trepidation, now moved instead with skill, competence, and supreme self-confidence. Even after all this time, and all the numerous repair-jobs and modifications that he'd performed on her robotic body, Jenny still couldn't help but admire his remarkable skill, dexterity and ingenuity when it came to making and repairing things. It was strange, but she suddenly realized that she had never really paid much attention to his hands before, or even thought about them; yet now, they were a source of deep fascination to her, so much so that she couldn't seem to take her eyes off them. So entranced was she by the sight, that, for a moment, she forgot the real reason she was there in the first place.

She sometimes envied the sensitivity and dexterity of human hands anyway, the simple grace of their design, their supple flexibility, and the smooth, quiet fluidity of their movement. Her own stainless-steel hands were built for strength, durability and sheer raw power rather than dexterity, and of course, she had no tactile sense whatsoever. Consequently, the smallest manual tasks, those requiring minute dexterity and finesse, were often beyond her capabilities, and her own inadequacy with such tasks was sometimes a source of great frustration to her. She could lift entire buildings with ease, but she had great difficulty picking up a dime with her thumb and forefinger. She compensated with her numerous built-in gadgets, gizmos and attachments, of course; nevertheless, human hands, she was sure, were a marvel of nature to be envied and admired.

Sheldon's hands were especially gifted, she thought; so talented, so skilled, and so sensitive, like the hands of a surgeon. They moved with such easy, nimble grace as they performed their task, and with such gentleness, even _tenderness_ as well; even—dare she think it?—even a kind of _love._ Yes, Jenny thought; it seemed to her that there _was_ a kind of love in the work his hands performed now.

As for Sheldon, he maintained absolute silence as he worked, never uttering a word, never making a sound. He merely performed his task with quiet, almost machine-like efficiency and singleness of purpose, betraying no emotion whatsoever. Jenny likewise remained silent the entire time as well; silent, and absolutely motionless, not moving a single servomotor in her entire body. For once, she was glad that she didn't even have to breathe, as she didn't want to risk breaking his concentration with even the tiniest sound.

After a short while, the dented and warped metal segments of Jenny's arm were pulled out, straightened, realigned, buffed to a brand-new sheen, then carefully, skillfully flush-riveted back into position. When at last the repairs were all completed, Sheldon stepped back, turned his back to her, and proceeded to put his tools away. "Finished." He said, simply.

"Thanks," Jenny said, flexing her fingers and wrist, and rotating her hand and arm this way and that. It looked and felt as good as new.

But Sheldon remained silent, his back still turned to her, as he continued putting his tools away. _And I hope you like it!_ He thought, bitterly. _Because it's the last repair-job I'll __ever__ do for you! _But try as he might, he just couldn't quite bring himself to utter the words aloud.

Jenny stepped off the stool and onto her feet. She was just about to head for the door to exit, when at the last moment, she abruptly stopped herself, suddenly remembering the real reason she was there. This was her absolute last chance, she knew; it was now or never, no turning back. If she couldn't say what she had to say here and now, she _never_ would…

So, with every last ounce of willpower she could muster, she turned to face Sheldon, clenched and then relaxed her metallic hands, and forced herself to speak the words that she'd kept buried deep within her, day and night, for two solid weeks:

"Um, Sheldon…" she began hesitantly, in a tiny voice, raising one finger timidly to her mouth.

"Yeah?" he replied, finally turning to face her, his expression grim.

"I…I just wanted to say…" She lowered her head and stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

Sheldon regarded her in silence. _Go on,_ he thought, his entire body tensing up, as he waited, expecting to hear the painful, yet inevitable words: The final end between them. _Go on, say it!_ he thought._ Say it! You know you want to! Now that I just fixed your stupid arm for you, and you don't need me anymore, now you're going to tell me you don't want to see me anymore, right? You don't want me near you, you want me to stay far away from you from now on! Well, okay! Fine! All right! Go ahead! Say it! I'm ready for it! I'm expecting it! So go on…! Get it over with! Say it, already!_

"I—I just wanted to say," Jenny repeated, looking up to face him directly. "That…that I'm really, really _sorry_ for—for the way I acted that day out at that secret-agent compound. I—I'm sorry I got angry at you, and—and chased you around with my laser cannons and everything. That—that was wrong of me. I shouldn't have acted like that."

She hesitated, then went on, quietly, her hands gently clasped together. "I—I shouldn't have gotten angry at you… Cripes, I should have been _grateful_ to you, for all you did for me! I know you really came through for me in the end that day. You risked your life for me, you got me out of a _really_ tight spot, you freed my sisters and all the other robots, too, and—and _everything!"_ She paused, then lowered her head again. "I—I shouldn't have…gotten angry and—and _attacked_ you and—_hurt_ you, the way I did." She spoke softly, then looked up and into his eyes as she went on, "I feel terrible about it now…and I'm really, really sorry."

Sheldon blinked and his head jerked upward; he was utterly flabbergasted by her words. Had he heard her correctly? Jenny…was _apologizing…? _To _him…?_ _Well, __this__ is a first!_ he thought. He was so stunned by the unexpected turn of events—it was literally the _last_ thing he'd ever expected to hear from Jenny—that he couldn't think of anything to say in response. Jenny had _never_ apologized to him before for _anything_. _Ever!_ Not even after the time when she'd abandoned him in outer space for 90 years.

That harrowing memory came flooding back to him in a rush. _Well, forget it!_ he thought, bitterly. _I'm not falling for it! Who do you think you're fooling? I'm not stupid! 'Sorry'? You're not sorry! You're not sorry at all! You're not sorry, because you have no __feelings__! _

Sheldon merely stared at her in ice-cold silence, betraying no emotion whatsoever. Then, after a seeming eternity, he simply turned away from her without a word and headed for the door.

Jenny held up a hand to stop him, and hastened to try again. "Sheldon, wait. Please…" she went on, more insistently. "I—I really mean it. I was wrong and I admit it. I shouldn't have flown off the handle at you that way and—and _hurt_ you. I—I'm _ashamed_ of myself for the way I acted." She paused and raised her hands in a gesture of abject surrender, and her voice became very quiet and subdued. "I—I _know_ I was wrong. And I _am_ sorry. And I know I should have apologized to you for it a long time ago, too... I don't know why I didn't…" She paused, then lowered her head. "I—I guess I was just being…stubborn… Stubborn and…stupid..." Her voice dropped to a near-whisper.

Sheldon froze in his tracks. Slowly, he turned and forced himself to look at Jenny. Something in the tone of her voice made him stop…and think. It was a tone he'd never heard from her before.

"But I really am sorry…" she went on, looking up at him directly. _"Honest,_ I am…" She paused again; then, very quietly, "Will you…will you…forgive me?"

Another long silence followed. Sheldon lowered his head and, with a shudder, turned away from her, struggling to avoid breaking down completely. He swallowed hard, fighting back a lump in his throat, and said, very softly, "You know…you really did _hurt_ me," tears now filling his eyes.

"Sheldon—"

"Deep down in here," he pointed to his chest. "…you really hurt me. And this wasn't the first time, either. There were other times, too. This was just the last straw…"

He sobbed, swallowed, then went on. "I always tried my best to be a good friend to you. I tried to be good to you, and kind to you, because I always thought of you as my best friend. No, more than just a friend. I thought of you as a real-life superheroine, someone I could look up to and respect and admire. Someone I could always count on and depend on and _trust;_ someone who would _never_ let us down. Someone who would never, _ever_ turn against me. I saw in you all the noble, heroic qualities and virtues and ideals that I always wanted to believe in…"

He paused; then his tone grew hard and cold. "But instead…you turned out to be nothing but just another _bully!_ Like the same kind I've been dealing with my whole life!"

Jenny's mouth dropped open and she reeled back, stunned. _"What?!"_ She cried, aghast.

"In fact," Sheldon went on. "In a way, you're even _worse_ than any of the bullies I've ever had to deal with in the past! Because at least they're not hypocrites! They don't pretend to be anything other than what they are!"

Her mouth still open in shock, Jenny blinked and sputtered in response, "Now—now, wait just a minute!" she exclaimed.

But Sheldon held up a hand, stopping her. "Let me finish," he said, speaking quietly but firmly. "And I don't care if you atomize me for saying this, either! I'm gonna say what I'm gonna say, regardless! Even if I have to get blasted into a million pieces for it, I'm going to have my say, no matter what!" Though choked with emotion, his voice gradually grew in intensity.

He swallowed again, then turned to face her directly and went on. "You used your—your powers _against_ me!" He said. "To _hurt_ me! Just like any other bully would! As if having those powers somehow gives you the right to—to just use them any way you please! Even just to _hurt_ somebody, just 'cuz you feel like it!" he snorted with contempt. "That was _mean,_ Jenny! Just plain _mean_ and _dirty__!_ I _never_ thought you would do anything like that! _Ever!_ Not to me, not to _anyone!"_ He paused and took a deep breath, his voice continuing to rise in volume and intensity, as the raw emotions poured out of him in a torrent. "I mean, _how could you __do__ such a thing?! How?!"_ he cried. "You had no right at all to do that to me! None! I mean, you can fly! I can't! You have dozens of built-in weapons! I have none! I couldn't defend myself in any way! I couldn't run! I couldn't hide! I couldn't get away!" His voice choked with emotion, then he went on. "You're literally a million times stronger than me…and yet you turned _against_ me and—and _attacked_ me! You…you…" he choked a second time and shook his head, as though to dispel the harrowing, nightmarish memory. "I just don't understand how you could _do_ such a thing! To _me!_ And after all the things I've done for you!" He sobbed, then dropped his voice. "I don't think you'd even do such a thing to the Crust Cousins, and you _despise_ them! And yet…you did it to _me…!"_

Jenny recoiled with each word he hurled at her, as she felt anew the full weight of shame and guilt descend upon her with crushing force. "I _know!_ I _know!"_ she acknowledged. "Sheldon, I _know_ I was wrong! And I'm _sorry—"_

But Sheldon didn't hear her. Now crying openly, tears streaming down his face, with all the memories of the experience still fresh in his mind, he couldn't stop himself. "I know you don't like me, but I thought…I thought we were at _least_ supposed to be _friends!"_ He sobbed, then went on. "But apparently, we're _not!_ Because you sure never would have done such a thing to a _real_ friend, someone you _really_ care about! _Never!"_ He hesitated, then dropped his tone low, as though the words he spoke next pained him to speak aloud. "And besides…I thought…I thought that robots aren't supposed to…_do_ things like that! Robots aren't supposed to—" he swallowed, then went on. "—to _hurt_ people!"

Jenny winced at the last statement. "I _know!"_ she acknowledged the bitter reminder, not only of her violation of the First Law of Robotics, but also of her true, robotic nature. _And_ the reminder that she was, when all was said and done, still separate and apart from "people." And hearing it now coming from Sheldon somehow made it all the more painful.

"And what about the 'Hero's Code'?" he went on. "Heroes aren't supposed to do things like that, either!" As a long time reader of comic books, Sheldon was, of course, fully versed in the "Hero's Code."

As was Jenny herself. All too well. Like the 3 Laws of Robotics, it had been drummed into her from the time she was first programmed and activated. "I _know…!"_ she repeated weakly, painfully reminded of her violation of the code.

"But let's forget about the fact that you're a robot…_and_ a hero…" Sheldon went on. "Or _supposed_ to be a hero, anyway. How could you use your powers against me like that? Or against _any_ friend, for that matter? I mean, suppose things were the other way around? If _I_ had those powers and you didn't, I could _never_ do a thing like that to you! _Never!_ I just couldn't do it, for _any_ reason, no matter what,no matter _how_ angry I got! I just don't have such a thing in me! To...to deliberately…_hurt_ you…! I just…I just couldn't _do_ it…! _"_ He sobbed and fell silent.

"I know, I know!" Jenny winced at his words. "Sheldon, I _said_ I _know_ I was wrong, and I'm _sorry!"_

But Sheldon shook his head. "It doesn't matter now," he said, quietly. "Whether you say you're sorry or not. It doesn't matter, because I don't believe in you anymore. You, the things you pretend to stand for and defend, 'heroism,' 'justice,' all that stuff. It's all a bunch of phony lies, and you know it. And _I_ know it now, too."

"Now wait just a minute, Sheldon! That's not—"

"I mean… It wasn't just the laser-blasts that hurt." He went on, interrupting her. "It's only flesh. It heals. What _really_ hurts is the fact that _you turned against me!__You__ betrayed__ me!_ And you betrayed everything I wanted to believe in about you, too! You were the _one_ person in all the world I thought I could count on, the one person I thought I could _trust!_ And I had just saved your _life,_ for crying out loud!You even said so yourself at the time! Remember? And how'd you repay me for that? By _attacking_ me! By flying after me and attacking me with your laser-cannons!" He momentarily choked at the bitter memory, then shook his head in cold, disgusted fury. "I'll _never_ forgive you for that! _Never!"_ He said in a low, growling tone. "Not for _betraying_ me!"

Jenny's features hardened into a scowl. _"I_ betrayed _you?!"_ she challenged. _"I_ betrayed _you?!_ What about the way _you_ betrayed _me,_ by getting mixed up with that creepy agency in the first place?! And what about the way you betrayed me last year, when you snuck into my house and stole my plans? _And _you were then _stupid_ enough to let them fall into Vexus' hands? What about _that?!"_ She shook her head angrily. "Cripes, Sheldon, thanks to you, I could've been _killed!"_

"I know, I know!" Sheldon said, wincing. "I know I was wrong when I stole your plans! I know I was stupid and I screwed up! I screwed up _big_ time! I admitted that at the time! And I _said_ I was sorry! And I'm sorry now for getting mixed up with this creepy secret agency! But that's not the point! The point is, _none of that excuses what you did to me! A robot must __never__ attack a human,_ and _a friend never, __ever__ attacks a friend!"_

The last sentence struck Jenny like a physical blow, leaving her momentarily stunned and speechless. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, and a heavy silence fell upon the pair. As hurtful as Sheldon's words were, and as angry as she herself still felt over his past transgressions, she nevertheless couldn't deny his point. Nor could she blame him for his well-justified anger towards her now.

"Or do you even consider me a friend?" Sheldon went on, quietly but pointedly. "You never really treated me like one. Never! I mean, you once told me, back when we first met, that you were willing to be 'just friends' with me. Okay, fine. I was willing to accept that and live with it. But the honest truth is, you never _really_ wanted my friendship in the first place. Did you? And I'm not just talking about the fact that you never have time for me, or that you won't go on a date with me—"

"Sheldon," Jenny said, looking up. "Just because I don't want to date you doesn't mean—"

"I know, I know, " Sheldon interrupted her. "I understand. You're not interested in me that way. I get it. I'm not talking about…_that."_ He couldn't hide the pain in his voice as he spoke. "I'm talking about just…being _friendly_ to me. Treating me _decently, _like a _friend;_ a _real_ friend, and not just a…a _pest_ that you have to put up with!"

"Sheldon!" Jenny protested. "I _am_ friendly towards you!"

"No, you're not. Not really. The fact is, you never even _tried!_ You never even made _half_ the effort with me that you do with other people. Instead, a lot of the time, you mostly _avoid_ me, like you're embarrassed to even be seen around me..."

"I don't…I don't do that," Jenny said, though a bit too weakly to sound convincing.

"Yes, you do. I mean, it's obvious what you _really_ think of me. You don't hide your feelings as well as you think you do, you know. I've seen that sour look you get on your face whenever I show up. You think I don't notice, but I _do!_ You never get that look around anyone else, except for maybe the Crust Cousins when they're giving you a hard time, or something like that."

"Now Sheldon, that's simply not true!" Jenny retorted. "I—I don't…_avoid_ you…_or_ give you sour looks!" She overemphasized her words, almost as though she were trying to convince herself more than Sheldon.

"Yes, Jenny; you do. Face it." Sheldon insisted. "Even on the rare occasion when you ever _are_ friendly to me, you seem to do it only grudgingly, like it's some terrible, awful chore that you just can't get out of. Practically the only times you even bother pretending to be friendly to me is when you want my help with something, some small repair job or whatever! _Like right now, for instance!"_ He glared sharply at her, and she averted her eyes. Suddenly, her plan of trying to get on Sheldon's good side by asking him to repair her arm for her didn't seem like such a hot idea after all.

_Maybe Mom was right after all! _She thought, belatedly. _Maybe I __should__ have brought over a plate of her cookies as a peace-offering instead, just like she said!_

"You only use me when it's convenient for you, that's all," Sheldon went on. "You take me for granted or, at most, you just barely, grudgingly tolerate me, but it's rarely anything more than that."

Sheldon paused for a moment, then continued, his voice suddenly very soft. "But would it _really_ have cost you anything to at least _try?_ To at least make an effort? To at least _try_ and be a little more friendly to me? The way you are to…to other people…?"

"Sheldon, Jenny replied, quietly. "I _am _friendly to you. But you must remember that I _do_ have other responsibilities and duties, and when you interfere and get in the way when I'm trying to—"

"I know, I know," Sheldon interrupted. "Being a superhero doesn't leave you a whole lot of free time, and _no_ time at all to—to waste on…on somebody like _me._ I get all that."

"Sheldon, I'm not saying that—"

"But you don't have to…deliberately _exclude_ me from your life entirely…do you?" he went on. "I mean, it would've been nice if, once in a while—_once in a while!_—you could've maybe stopped by just to say, 'Hi, Sheldon, how ya doing?' Maybe spend even a _little_ time with me or whatever, just for the heck of it, but you don't. You never even do _that_ much."

"I do, too!" Jenny exclaimed. "I mean, yeah, maybe I spend more time with Brad and Tuck than I do with you, but that's mostly 'cuz I live right next door to them and I see them every day. But I _do_ stop by here and spend time with you, too! What about the times I came over here to visit and do role-playing games with you? Did you suddenly forget about those or something?"

"No, I didn't forget about those. I really enjoyed those gaming sessions, and I _thought_ you did, too. But see, that's what makes this all so confusing to me. It's like you're giving me mixed signals or something. I never know whether I'm coming or going with you. I mean, sometimes—_sometimes—_it's like you're _almost_ starting to be friendly to me, but then, other times—_most of the time!_—you act just the opposite. Especially if other people are around. Then you tend to give me the cold shoulder, and act almost like you don't even know me—or that you don't even want to _admit _that you know me. Sometimes, you're even _hostile_ to me. And _that's_ usually when you avoid me."

"Sheldon, for the last time, I _don't_ avoid you!" Jenny said, with growing irritation. "But if I _do_ sometimes get tired of you, it's because you never know when to _quit!_ You're always so darned _clingy!_ You're always _there,_ constantly, always following me around everywhere at school, staring at me, acting all weird and creepy and getting that glassy look in your eyes! A lot of the time you act like a total stalker! You never even give me a chance to breathe!"

"Um…you're a robot; you don't breathe."

Jenny rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "It's a figure of speech, mister funny man! I just mean that—"

"I know what you mean. You don't want me following you around all the time. I get that, all right? I'm not stupid. But what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to know if you're in the mood to be friendly or not? I mean, you never give me much of _anything!_ No indication, _nothing!_ I never know what kind of mood you're in on any given day. But I do know this much: Whenever you're doing something with your friends, some activity or other, you almost never include _me_ along." He paused, and went on, in a softer tone. "But maybe if you _did_ include me just a little bit more, once in a while, then maybe I wouldn't have _been_ so…'clingy,' as you call it."

"Sheldon, I _do_ include you in a lot of things I do! Like when we all helped Tuck make his movie. Remember? Or what about the time when Krakus made me fall apart with that hokey invention of his, and then scattered my pieces all over the world? Remember? And you and Brad and Tuck helped get me put back together again. Remember that? So you see, I _do_ include you in stuff!"

"But that's just the point! Practically the only times you ever want me around is just to…_use_ me, 'cuz you want my _help,_ not because you really want my company!" he said. "But…I still went along with it anyway, and for the same reason I always did: to try and be a good friend to you, in the only way I knew how. And yeah, I know, I got carried away sometimes, and I know you didn't like it. But the point is, I _did try! _At least I did that much! And I've _never_ made you feel left out and excluded, the way you do to me. Like that time on Cluster Prime and afterwards, remember?"

"_What?!"_ Jenny cried, now utterly lost. "What's Cluster Prime got to do with any of this?"

"When you were on Cluster Prime, and your mom and I worked so hard to hotwire Vexus' ship to try and rescue you. Remember?"

"Sheldon, I told you before: I didn't need 'rescuing'! I _can_ take care of myself, you know!"

"That's not the point! The point is, we didn't know where you were, what happened to you or what was being done to you! I mean, for all we knew, the Cluster might've been getting ready to drop you into a big smelting-vat and melt you down into a 600-pound doorstop or something! We didn't know what was going on! But we thought you were in trouble, and that's all we needed! So we both worked our tails off to try and rescue you. I mean, I wasn't even going to mention this, but the fact is, your mom didn't even want me to come along on the voyage, because it was so dangerous. She wanted me to stay behind on earth, where she thought I'd be safe. But I insisted on going with her, even to the point of arguing with her about it. And why? Because I thought you were in danger and I wanted to help!"

"Sheldon—"

"So we worked together," he went on. "And we risked our lives to go through that multi-lateral Cluster vortex to get there. And then, when we arrived…" His voice trailed off. "After all that hard work we did and after all the risks and dangers we went through to get there and find you…" His voice momentarily choked with emotion. "You—you didn't even say _'thanks'!_ For _anything_ I did! Not for getting there and finding you, not for piloting the ship and taking you back home, not for destroying Smytus's ship once we got here, not for _anything!_ Just like you never appreciate _anything_ I do for you! You just take it all for granted! The same way you take _me_ for granted! I mean, you—you could've at least appreciated the effort involved! You could've at least had the simple, common decency to say 'thank you,' but you didn't even do that!" He snorted with bitter contempt. "You didn't even acknowledge me! You didn't even—" he stopped himself. "You _obviously_ weren't happy to see _me_ there!"

"I was too!" Jenny retorted. "I was happy to see all of you there!"

He shook his head. "No. You were happy to see your mom and—and your _friends,_ Brad and Tuck," he replied. "But not _me!_ Not Sheldon! Not creepy, geeky, pain-in-the-neck Sheldon! Geez, you didn't even…" his voice broke. "You didn't even…" he couldn't go on.

Jenny recalled their reunion on Cluster Prime. It had been an intensely emotional time, after a bitter, exhausting struggle, in the midst of turmoil and a full-scale planetary revolution. She remembered her creator and Sheldon appearing from Queen Vexus' ship, and she remembered Brad and Tuck somehow suddenly materializing out of thin air moments later, and she remembered making the difficult decision to return to earth rather than remain on Cluster Prime, where she had managed to fit in better than she ever had on Earth, and where she had even made some new friends. But beyond that, she couldn't remember any details about the experience at all. Clearly, however, Sheldon apparently did.

"Sheldon, I do appreciate what you did," Jenny said in her defense. "I do appreciate it. Mom told me all about it, how you helped her with Vexus's ship and everything."

"Well, you sure didn't show any appreciation at the time."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?"

"Well, you could've said 'thank you,' at least!" he fumed. "You could've done that, at least! But you didn't! You didn't even—" Again, Sheldon's voice choked with emotion, and he couldn't continue. He turned away from her and shut his eyes tightly, wincing at the memory. He swallowed and pressed reluctantly ahead. "You—you didn't even give me a hug," he whispered, ashamed—embarrassed to speak out loud the most painful aspect of the memory for him. "You greeted everybody else with a great big hug…but—but not _me!_ You _deliberately_ left me out of it! Even later on, when Razinski awarded you a medal for heroism, you gathered up everybody else around you in another big group hug…" he sobbed and continued in a low, heavy tone. "But—but not _me!_ You—you _deliberately_ kept me out of it! _Again!"_ His voice choked now with emotion, he muttered softly, "A lousy group hug…! With everybody else…and you couldn't even include me in that…!"

Jenny blinked; she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "A _hug?!"_ she asked, her eyebrows raised. "Is _that_ what this is all about? A stupid _hug_ you didn't get?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it sounds stupid and silly now," Sheldon waved a hand dismissively. "And I knew you wouldn't understand. Or care! I know you only care about yourself, and you only think of me as just an obnoxious, annoying creep and a pest. But I _am_ a person, you know, and I _do_ have feelings! And it really _hurt,_ being left out that way. Because you _always_ make me feel left out!"

A silence followed, as Jenny slowly absorbed Sheldon's words. Clearly, she began to realize, the roots of his ill feelings and resentment went back a lot farther than the incident at the secret-agent compound, and went much, much deeper.

"Sheldon," Jenny replied quietly, choosing her words carefully. "I know you have feelings. But _I _have feelings, too. And it hurt _my_ feelings when I realized that you joined that agency to _spy_ on me! And I _also_ felt hurt when you stole my plans last year! Sneaking into my home—_my home!_ Violating my privacy! And stealing something that was very personal and private to me: My _plans!"_ She shook her head. "Now, _that's_ something that _I _never thought _you_ would do! I _never_ thought you would stoop so low as to do a thing like that! Never! You not only violated my privacy when you did that, but you also violated my _trust_ in you!"

"Jenny, I know I was wrong and stupid for doing that. I _admitted_ that at the time. And I _said_ I was sorry for it, didn't I? And that was even _before_ you pulverized me for it! And—speaking of which— you more than paid me back for that! I mean, that was a heck of a smackdown you gave me! I had to wear that stupid neck-brace for over a _month!"_

Jenny winced and dropped her eyes, frowning. It was a bitter memory for the both of them.

"Even so, I _still_ helped you defeat Vexus that time, didn't I?" Sheldon pointed out.

"Yes!" Jenny admitted, grudgingly. "And I'm sorry about your neck, too! But still, the point is, you hurt _me_ in the first place, by invading my privacy and betraying my trust in you! Or what about the time you tried to _buy_ me from my mom? _That_ hurt me, too! You made me feel like—like I was _property!"_

"Jenny, that was a _joke!" _Sheldon cried. "Just a dumb joke! I admit it was a lousy, rotten, _stupid_ joke, and I'm sorry you felt hurt by it, but that's all it was! Just a dumb, stupid joke that didn't come out right! I didn't mean anything by it!"

"Well then, I guess that's something I just don't have a sense of humor about…" Jenny muttered in response.

Sheldon hung his head, and Jenny looked away. Neither one looked at the other or spoke a word for several moments. Another long silence followed before Sheldon spoke again, in a low tone that Jenny had never heard him use before.

"Jenny…I know you don't like me," he said, quietly. "I've known it for a long time. But until recently, I never realized that you _hate_ me."

Jenny stared at Sheldon, stunned. She couldn't believe her own audio-sensors. _Sheldon…_thought that _she_ hated _him…?_ It was the exact opposite of her own fears only a short while ago.

"Sheldon…" She said gently, still stunned by his words, trying to absorb them while searching for an adequate response. "I—I don't hate you…and I never said I did."

"You didn't have to say it. It's obvious from the way you treat me! It's obvious from the sour looks you give me! From the things I've heard you _say_ about me behind my back! From the fact that you deliberately _exclude _me and freeze me out from the things you do, like you did on Cluster Prime!" He paused, and continued in a low, growling tone. "And it's obvious from the way you're sometimes downright _cruel_ to me! Like that day out at that compound!"

Jenny's mouth dropped open. _"I am not cruel!"_ she protested. "Sheldon, I know I have my faults, and I know I'm not perfect! I know I make mistakes—"

"_Mistakes?!"_ Sheldon cried, interrupting her. "Is _that_ what you call it?! A _mistake?!"_ He shook his head in disgust. "Jenny, there are mistakes and there are mistakes! But what you did to me out at that compound that day was just plain _cruel! Mean_ and _cruel!"_

Jenny cringed. "Listen, Sheldon, I _know_ that was wrong of me, and I _said_ I'm sorry for it. I _know _I sometimes lose my temper, and I admit it's sometimes hard for me to keep my powers under control. And even when I _do_ get angry at you, it's usually because you did something really stupid and you're really asking for it! But I am _not_ cruel!"

"No? Well, what do you call blasting away at somebody with laser-cannons? An act of kindness?!" Sheldon challenged her. "Jenny, there was no excuse for that! _None!_ No matter how 'really stupid' you think I might've been!"

"But Sheldon, I _told_ you I was sorry about—"

"Or what about the time you abandoned me in outer space for 90 years?" he argued, cutting her off. "What about that?"

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go again!" she sighed. "Sheldon, we've been through this before! I already told you, _I didn't know_ you were aboard that space-ship! If I had known, I certainly wouldn't have left you there! I'd have gone after you! But from where we were here on Earth, it was only one day that had passed, and—"

"Yeah! One whole day had gone by and you didn't even notice I was missing! You cared so little about me, you never even noticed! If Brad, or Tuck, or your mom, or anyone else you _really_ cared about had ever gone missing for even five minutes, I bet you'd have noticed it immediately! And you'd have moved heaven and earth to find them again! But because it was only me…you never even noticed! Or cared!"

Jenny's mouth dropped open, aghast, and she found herself momentarily at a loss for words. "Sheldon," she said, struggling to maintain an even tone. "For your information, I just spent all afternoon today on a wild goose chase, looking all over town for you, just so that I could apologize to you! And, believe me, I looked _everywhere!_ I _still _don't know where the heck you were all this time, but _I looked!_ So don't tell _me_ I don't care! And when you went missing on that space-ship, _believe_ me, I would have noticed it eventually!"

"Yeah, _eventually,_ you might have!" he exclaimed. _"Maybe!_ Like maybe a month or two later! Or whenever you wanted me to make a repair on you that you couldn't ask your mom to do! That's probably the only time you'd have noticed I was missing! When you wanted me to fix something for you!"

Jenny winced, recalling again the questionable method by which she began this entire discussion. _No doubt about it now!_ She thought. _I __definitely__ should have brought over a plate of Mom's cookies instead!_

"And who put me aboard that space-ship in the first place?" Sheldon went on, his volume rising. "You did, that's who! You paid so little attention to what you were doing, you cared so little about _me,_ that when you scooped up all those aliens and dumped them onto that space-ship,_ you never even noticed that you scooped __me__ up along with them!"_

"Sheldon, I didn't do that on purpose!" Jenny cried. "I told you before, that was a _mistake!"_

"Ah," Sheldon said. "Of course! Another mistake! Right… Sure… You simply mistook me for a small, candy-colored, jelly-bean-shaped alien from another planet! Right. Sure. It's an easy mistake to make. Happens all the time. Could happen to anybody, right? I mean, come on! How come that kind of thing somehow always manages to happen to _me_ whenever I'm around _you?!"_

Jenny winced, and averted her eyes.

"For all I know, maybe you did it on _purpose!"_ Sheldon said.

"Oh, come on, now!" Jenny protested. "You know I'd never do anything like that on purpose!"

"Do I?" Sheldon challenged her. "I'm not so sure… Oh, maybe you might not have done it on a _conscious_ level…but maybe _unconsciously…_ I really can't help but wonder if maybe you were, on some level or other, _unconsciously_ trying to get rid of me!"

Jenny started to open her mouth to respond, then slowly closed it again. She shuddered as the formerly-unthinkable possibility occurred to her, and for the first time, she began to entertain serious doubts as to her true motivations behind her actions at the time. _Could it be…?_ She now wondered. _Is he right? Was I subconsciously trying to get rid of him…? It—it can't be! Can it…? _

She shuddered again just thinking about the possibility. _Could it be…? _She asked herself, her self-confidence now beginning to falter._ Was I __really__ trying to…to get rid of him…? Without even realizing it…? How will I ever really know for sure…?_

"And what about afterwards?" Sheldon went on. "After I got back to Earth, and you had reverted me back to a baby…what did you do? _You just handed me right back over to those pirates!_ _The same bunch I was trying to get away from!_ You—you just _left_ me with them! _Abandoned_ me! Without any thought or care or concern! With—with no one to look after me, no one to take care of me, or—or _anything!"_ He shook his head at the traumatic memory, as though he still couldn't quite believe it had happened to him. "I mean, what were you _thinking?!_ How could you _do_ such a thing? To _anyone?! _If _that_ isn't deliberately cruel, then what _is?!"_

"Sheldon, I already told you a thousand times! It was the only way I could think of to revert you back to your right age at the right time!"

"I don't buy that!" Sheldon countered. "You could have tried something else! You could have _easily_ fought off all those pirates single-handed if you wanted, and then either you or your mom could've come up _some_ idea, and tried _some_ other way to bring me back to my right age!"

"Sheldon, I _couldn't! _ There _was_ no other way! _Please_ believe me!"

"No? Well then, let me ask you this: If it had been someone other than me in that situation, if it had been Brad or Tuck…or your mom…or anyone else you _really_ care about, would you have done the same thing? Or would you have found some other way?"

Jenny opened her mouth, about to respond, then closed it again and fell silent; she had no answer.

"Well? Would you?" Sheldon challenged her. "Or forget about your mom or your _friends,"_ he said, emphasizing the last word. "Suppose it was…oh, let's say Don Prima, or that new guy, Sebastian. Or Travis. Or Shane. Or some other guy you like. Would you have done the same thing to one of them?"

Jenny lowered her head and remained silent; it was obvious what her answer would have been.

"I didn't think so," said Sheldon. "I don't even think you'd do _that_ to the Crust Cousins, either! But—again—you did it to _me!"_ He paused for a breath, then went on. "And even when I finally got back to earth again for the last time, and told you how hurt and angry I was about what you did to me, you _still_ didn't care! You didn't even say you were sorry! No, you acted like it was all just a big joke! _A joke!"_ He fumed, clenching his fists in barely-controlled fury.

Jenny winced. "Sheldon, I'm sorry if it looked that way to you. I didn't mean—"

"You laughed at my pain," he went on. "On top of everything else…_you laughed at my pain."_

"Sheldon," Jenny said, softly. "Listen to me. Please. I'm telling you now, I wasn't trying to be cruel. I really wasn't. I did what I did because I was trying to correct my mistake, and I honestly couldn't think of any other way to solve the problem and deal with the situation. And that's the truth." She half-shrugged, half-raised her hands in a feeble gesture of surrender. "What else could I have done?"

Now it was Sheldon's turn to be struck silent, staring at her, as though the answer to her rhetorical question should have been obvious. "What else could you have done?" he echoed, quietly. "You're kidding me, right?" He paused again, waiting for a response that was not forthcoming. "Well then, think about this," he said. "After you had reverted me back to an infant, why didn't you just take me back through the wormhole a second time at a high enough speed to age me rapidly, until I had reached the age of 17? Why didn't you do that?"

Jenny blinked and stared blankly at him. "What—what are you talking about?"

"Like you did the first time I got back to earth as an old man. Remember? The first thing you tried was, you took me through that wormhole, under the theory that it would revert me backward in age. Only when you actually tried it, you and your mom discovered that, instead of reverting me in age, it was aging me _more_ rapidly! Right? So if you had simply taken me through the wormhole a _second_ time, when I was an infant, then you could have aged me seventeen years in just a few minutes, and brought me back to my right age _that_ way! You _certainly _could've done that, instead of handing me back over to those pirates!" He glared sharply at her. "The question is…_why didn't you…?"_

Jenny's eyes opened wide as she at last grasped the meaning of Sheldon's explanation. She shuddered as she now realized for the first time the full magnitude of her error in judgment. Slowly, she closed her eyes, shutting them tightly, and buried her face in her hands, as the full implications and consequences of her actions at last became clear to her. _"Oh…my…Jobs…! Oh…my…Jobs…!"_ she softly moaned. "You're _right…!_ You're _right…!_ I _did_ screw up! I _did!_ I _could've_ done that! I _could've…!_ I just didn't…think of it…! I just didn't…think…"

"I guess you didn't." Sheldon said, quietly.

Jenny fell silent, trembling as she contemplated the monumental wrong she had done to Sheldon. As hard as it was to admit and to face, he was _right:_ She _had_ used extremely poor judgment on that occasion. She _had_ treated him badly and unfairly; she _had_ been thoughtless, careless, and she _had _ruined his life, just as he'd said at the time. And, from his point of view, it probably _did_ seem as though she had singled him out and had been deliberately cruel to him. She saw that now. She could no longer deny it.

"Sheldon…I am so…so…sorry…" she said in a small, quiet, utterly defeated voice. "I…I didn't mean… I didn't mean…" She softly repeated as she slowly shook her head, her face still covered by her hands in shame.

"I don't know why you treat me this way," Sheldon said. "I don't deserve it… You don't treat other people that way… You certainly don't treat your _friends_ that way… But you treat _me_ this way, almost like I'm your enemy…and I never understood why…" His voice became low and soft, full of emotion. "I know you only think of me as a pest and a creep and a nuisance… I've even heard you call me a 'stalker' and—and other things. But I'm not a 'stalker.' I'm really not. I admit my social skills aren't the greatest, and I _know_ I'm a long ways away from being the handsomest guy in the world. And sure, I make dumb, klutzy mistakes, and I know I embarrass you and everything. But I've never done you any real harm. At least…not on _purpose!_ I know I've done stupid things, but I've _never_ deliberately hurt you._ Ever. _All I ever wanted, all I ever tried to be, was your friend…" His voice was now just barely audible. "Just plain, simple friendship. Even though I admit I wanted more…I was willing to accept simple friendship and be satisfied with it…" He paused. "And yet…you couldn't even give me that much."

He paused, swallowed, then went on. "I know I act stupid sometimes, and I know I sometimes get jealous and act like an obnoxious jerk and everything. But _none_ of the stupid stuff I've ever done was out of meanness or spite. Or _cruelty."_ He put an emphasis on the word that cut through Jenny like a high-powered industrial laser-beam. "My only motive was…was…" he couldn't bring himself to utter the word. "My only crime, if you want to call it that, was to…_care_ about you." He finished, lowering his head, his eyes closed.

Jenny remained silent for a long time before she spoke. "Sheldon," she said, quietly. "I don't know what else to say…" She paused. "Despite what you think, I'm _not_ cruel. I _do_ care, or I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have spent all afternoon looking all over town for you if I didn't care! _I do care!_ But I can only say 'I'm sorry' so many times. I can even say it to you in a hundred and forty-three different languages, if you'd like. I'm sorry for getting angry at you and chasing you and shooting my laser-cannons at you and everything. That was wrong of me; I _admit_ it. I _told_ you I feel terrible about it now, and I _mean_ it! I mean it from the bottom of my cold-fusion reactor! I'd give anything in the world to undo what I did, _believe_ me, I would! I'm sorry I attacked you and hurt you, and I'm sorry about that other time too, when I accidentally marooned you in outer space. And I'm sorry I turned you over to those space pirates afterwards, too. I admit it was a careless, thoughtless, _ultra-incredibly-stupid_ thing for me to do, and _believe me _I'm sorry about it. I would undo _that_ if I could, too! What more can I say? What more can I do?"

Sheldon remained silent, still avoiding her eyes. Long moments passed, neither one uttering a word.

Finally, with a slow, sad shake of her head, Jenny continued. "But…I just wish…I really wish…" she said, quietly. "That you could give me an explanation…just one good reason for how and why you could get mixed up with such an organization—_any_ organization—that could plot to destroy robots. That's the part I still don't understand. I mean…I—I thought you _liked_ robots!" She hesitated, her vocoder momentarily choked with emotion, then she continued. "And yet…you _knew_ about this plan they had to destroy us! You _knew_ about it…! And yet, you never said a word about it! _Not a word!"_ She paused, then went on. "You claim to be my friend…and yet…you took part in this thing, this plot to destroy robots…! Robots like—like _me!"_ Her vocoder choked up a second time. "How in the world could you—_you, of all people!_—ever get mixed up in such a terrible thing…? Explain _that_ to me…"

"Jenny, I swear to you, I give you my word: I didn't know what those guys were really planning! They never told me! I didn't find out until the very last minute, and when I did, I came straight to your house to warn you! And I took you to their compound, so that we could try to stop them! But until then, I had no idea what they were really up to! I swear it!"

"Well, what did you _think_ they were up to?"

"Well, they told me in the beginning that their purpose was simply to conduct surveillance, to determine if robots could be trusted. Even then, they said they felt you were already 90% trustworthy, and they only wanted me to provide that extra 10% assurance. Well of course, I knew that'd be a cinch, since I already believed you were 100% trustworthy. So I went along with it, thinking that if I turned in a favorable report on you, then maybe I could convince them that you and _all_ the other robots were 100% trustworthy, too. So you see? I wasn't working against you; I was working _for_ you, on your behalf, on behalf of _all_ robots!"

"But you _lied_ to me!" Jenny retorted, her voice still heavy with emotion. "All those weeks! You kept secrets from me! You were part of that thing…and you never said a word about it to me! Not a word!"

"Jenny, I was sworn to secrecy. I was given a very strict warning to keep my identity as an agent a secret. 'Non-disclosure,' they called it. But even so, I _still_ tried to talk to you about what was going on!"

"When?" Jenny challenged. "When did you try to talk to me about _any_ of this?"

"When you were in Mogg's library, talking to him about the missing robots. And I was hiding in the bookcase. Remember? I _tried_ to talk to you, and you just blew me off, just like you always do! You said to me, 'I don't have time for this! This is robot business, and none of _your_ business!' Remember? Or a few weeks before that, when you were on the athletic-field at school, talking to the scoreboard, when you first began to suspect something wrong was going on. I tried to talk to you then, and you said, 'Sheldon, don't interrupt! I'm very busy right now with superhero robot business! You wouldn't understand!' Remember?"

"Yes, I remember; but what's it got to do with this?"

"It has _everything_ to do with this! You claim I never said a word to you about all this, but I _did!_ I _tried_ to talk to you, but you didn't want to listen! You kept blowing me off and brushing me aside, like I was nothing! Nothing but a nuisance to be brushed aside."

"Well, that's because you're always pestering me all the time—"

"The point is, _I did try_ to tell you about this!" Sheldon countered. "But as usual, you didn't want to listen! No, instead, you treated me like I was some kind of low-grade moron that you didn't have time for! And _then,_ after you refused to listen to me when I _tried_ to talk to you, you _then_ turned around and got angry at _me,_ and claim I never said a word?! Well, what the heck was I _supposed_ to do? Tell me!"

Jenny looked away; she had no answer.

"And even when I finally did have a chance to tell you the whole story, about my joining the agency and everything, even then, you _still_ didn't give me much of a chance to fully explain! No, the words were barely out of my mouth before you blew your top and started blasting away at me with your laser cannons!"

Jenny winced, at the reminder of her infuriated, out-of-control behavior that day.

"But if you had only listened to me in the first place, instead of brushing me aside and ignoring me," he went on. "Or if _you'd_ said something to _me_ weeks earlier, about your suspicions and concerns, when you first suspected something wrong was going on, then maybe I could've helped you. If I could have done that, then maybe I never would've even joined that agency in the first place!"

"Sheldon, I didn't—and I don't—need your help! I told you that before! At least a million times! I'm fully capable of taking care of myself!" But even as she said this, Jenny knew it wasn't entirely true; she couldn't help but recall the numerous times that Sheldon had come to her aid and assisted her, and had even saved her life on more than one occasion. Including this one.

"I still could've tried!" Sheldon protested. "And if I knew what was going on about the robots, then maybe I could have acted sooner to foul up the agency's plans or something. Or I maybe could've helped you in some other way. But you didn't even give me a chance! Couldn't you at least have given me a chance?"

Jenny was silent for a moment, before she responded, quietly. "Sheldon…the truth is, given your track-record, I honestly didn't think you could be trusted. And from the way things turned out, it looks like I was right!"

Sheldon's mouth dropped open in astonishment, and for several long moments, he merely stared at Jenny. "How can you say that?" he said at last. "After I got you out of that tight spot out at the compound? When you were surrounded by all those agents and outgunned by at least a hundred to one? And what about all the other times I've helped you in the past? All the other things I've done for you over the years? Like the way I helped you last Christmas, for example, when that Sweeney kid took over your mind and made you spoil all the holidays for everyone. What about that?" He paused. "Everybody else in town turned against you, but I didn't. I still believed in you, didn't I? And I helped you set everything right again, didn't I?"

Jenny couldn't answer and looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

"Well, didn't I?" He repeated, in a stronger tone. "If that didn't prove I could be trusted, then what _would?"_ He paused. _"'Didn't think I could be trusted!'" _he muttered in disgust, shaking his head. "Jenny, I would have done _anything_ for you! Anything at all! _And you know it!"_

Jenny was struck silent by both the passion and truth of Sheldon's statement, so much so that it took her a moment to recover and respond. "Well," she said at last, carefully avoiding the issue. "Whether or not I chose to confide in you, it still doesn't explain how or why you got mixed up with that agency in the first place. I mean, what were you thinking?"

Sheldon fell silent and remained so for a long time before he replied. "Jenny," he began quietly. "Try to understand things from my point of view. All my life, it's been the same. All my life, I never felt like I was wanted. Ever! By anyone! No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, nobody ever wanted me. All my life, I've been excluded and left out. Unwanted, unwelcome and treated like a nobody." He paused, took a deep breath, then continued.

"It's not like that for you," he went on. "You're always needed, by everyone. You're always the one everybody turns to in times of need, to rescue them, to save them from danger. And I know that's sometimes hard for you to live with, but try to imagine what it's like to _never_ be wanted, by _anyone, ever._ To be avoided by everyone, but _especially_ by the one person I admired more than anyone else in the whole world."

It took Jenny a moment to realize that Sheldon was referring to her in the last part, and when she did, she felt flattered that, in spite of all, Sheldon could still think of her as a _person,_ whom he _admired,_ rather than just a robot. She was about to say something in response when Sheldon continued.

"Well, that's what it was like for me," he said. "Then along comes this agency that, for whatever reason, _wanted_ me. I mean, really _wanted_ me! Valued me! Valued and appreciated my talents, and _believed_ in me! For the first time in my life, I felt _good_ about myself! Like I was _somebody!_ I felt like I was needed, that I had some value, that my life wasn't completely…worthless…" He couldn't go on.

"Oh, Sheldon…" Jenny said softly. "I—I didn't…know… I didn't realize…" For the very first time, she began to understand just how difficult Sheldon's life must have been, and how truly lonely he must have felt. She could certainly understand and relate to that herself.

"Anyway," he went on. "So when they asked me to join them, and said how much they wanted me, I just couldn't say 'no.'" He paused. "I mean…" he smiled bitterly, the first time he had smiled during their entire conversation. "I don't know, but I imagine it's maybe a little bit like how you felt on Cluster Prime, when you decided to return to Earth. Remember? You said it was because you knew you were needed back here on Earth. And it's true! You are needed here! Well, for the first time in my life, I finally felt like _I_ was needed!" He swallowed, then went on, his voice suddenly quiet, but heavy with emotion. "And yet…in spite of that, I was still willing to throw it all away, just as soon as I found out you were in danger."

Jenny was struck by at the reminder that, once again, Sheldon had risked his life to save hers. In fact, she suddenly realized with a start, that if it hadn't been for his swift, courageous action that day, they probably wouldn't even be having this conversation right now...

"Sheldon, I…I…" she began, but couldn't continue.

"Anyway," Sheldon went on. "That's how I felt. For the first time in my life, I felt…wanted…valued…appreciated. I felt like I was _somebody,_ no longer treated like an outcast, a nobody." He paused, with a slight shrug. "I would've thought that you, of all people, ought to be able to appreciate that, at least. Because—admit it—in spite of all the things you do for people, all your acts of heroism, all the times you've saved people's lives—_and even saved the entire world!—_you're still treated like an outcast by people a lot of the time. Isn't that true? So I would've thought that, for that reason alone, since you know what it feels like to be…left out…that maybe you might be…different from the other girls of Tremorton High. I thought that…you might have more sympathy for another outcast than, say, the Crust Cousins or Pteresa or the rest of the…_'popular' _girls ever would; that you might have more…compassion, and understanding. Or, at the very least, that you wouldn't be snobby and judgmental, the way _they_ are!" He paused, with a tiny, feeble shrug. "I just thought that you were somehow…_better_ than that... But I was wrong! Turns out you're no different from the other girls of Tremorton! _ You're just like all the rest!"_

Jenny winced; the contemptuous tone of his words struck her like a physical blow. It was ironic: All her life, she'd wanted to be "just like all the rest" of the girls, and ordinarily she would have been flattered by such a statement. But in this case, in this context, she knew full well that it was _not_ intended as a compliment.

Sheldon went on. "Or have you forgotten what it feels like to be excluded and treated like an outcast, just because of how you look? Don't you remember? Remember your first day at Tremorton High, when no one wanted to be friends with you? Just because of—of what you are, the way you look? Something you have absolutely no control over? Remember how awkward and out-of-place you felt? Remember the way everybody treated you, the way they either froze you out and ignored you, or else they laughed at you and made fun of you? Remember? Then tell me: How did that make you feel, that first day…?"

Jenny lowered her head and her shoulders sagged. "Like a scary, freaky-looking robot…and a loser..." She replied, quietly.

"Then you also remember how it hurt inside…right…? That feeling of being left out…and unwanted by everyone…? Remember…?"

Jenny didn't answer; but it was obvious she remembered. All too well. Silently, she nodded.

"Well…that's what it's like for _me_ most of the time,"he went on. "And you remember—you told me this yourself—you remember how difficult it was those first few weeks, after your mom first let you leave the house, and you started school and everything. All you wanted was to make friends and be popular. But nobody other than Brad and Tuck wanted to be your friends. Remember how it felt? How lonely it was? Remember how you would have done just about _anything_ to be popular?"

"I remember," she said, quietly.

"Well…that's kind of how _I_ felt…and why I was so willing to join that agency," he said. "I was willing to do just about _anything_ to try and fit in, to find a place for myself, and be valued and appreciated by others for my talents. _Even if it meant joining that creepy agency!"_ He paused, then went on, quietly. "It's not really all that different from _you_ wanting to do just about anything in order to be _popular…_is it…?"

_No…no, I suppose not…!_ Jenny privately acknowledged, though she remained silent.

"But then I met you. You remember that day, I'm sure. And I liked you right away! And I immediately wanted to be your friend." He paused. "Okay, okay; I admit it: I wanted us to be _more_ than friends." He smiled for a fleeting moment. "I admit that. Because, unlike the others, I _never_ thought of you as 'freaky' or 'scary' or anything like that. To me, you were _beautiful!_ I thought you were an amazing, wonderful, remarkably unique girl! One of a kind! That's why I used to stare at you and follow you around everywhere! I just couldn't believe that such an amazing, beautiful, wonderful girl could actually _be_ in our boring, pokey, stupid little school, and I just couldn't help myself!"

He hesitated for a moment, then went on, his voice much softer and more subdued, almost as though he were about to confide a closely-guarded secret. "And—and I didn't even mind the fact that you're way more powerful and stronger than me, either. I guess most guys would've felt threatened by that, but…I didn't." He shrugged. "It never bothered me at all. At least…it never did _before._ Not 'til now. Because, up until now, it never occurred to me that you would ever use that power _against_ me, to _hurt_ me!"

Jenny cringed and hung her head, and Sheldon stopped short, as though he regretted reopening the wound.

"Anyway…" he went on. "What I'm trying to say is, from the moment I first saw you, I wanted _so_ badly to be your friend. And I tried so hard to _be_ a good friend to you, too; in every way I could think of. For days! Weeks! Months, even! I tried _everything_ I could think of to be a good friend to you. I tried making nice gifts for you, things that I thought you'd appreciate. I did favors for you whenever you asked, I helped you with…you know…" he hesitated, then went on, a faint blush appearing on his pale cheeks. "With…_repairs_ and stuff...on your body…whenever you needed them."

He shrugged. "I didn't mind doing them…" he went on. "In fact, I was happy to do them. I would have done _anything _for you, if it meant having you pay even a _little_ attention to me…" He paused, swallowed, then continued. "Though it would've been nice if, just _once_ in a while—_once in a while_—you could have shown me some appreciation for it… But…you never did…" he swallowed again, with a slight frown, then went on. "Anyhow…I did those repairs and stuff…'cuz I wanted you to like me! I did all that and more. I tried _everything_ I could think of to make you like me, or at least appreciate me… I even tried making you jealous! And we both know how _that_ worked out!"

Jenny cringed; it was a painful memory for the both of them. On that occasion, as on this, she had gotten angry at Sheldon before giving him a chance to explain, only to regret it later on, after she'd learned the true facts of the matter.

"But _nothing_ worked." Sheldon concluded. "You just decided, right from the beginning, practically from the moment you first laid eyes on me, that you weren't going to like me, no matter what. And so, you never even gave me a chance. _Not even one fair chance!_ And I don't get that, because…well, I mean, you pretend to stand for justice and fairness and all that stuff..._and yet you never treated __me__ fairly! _Never! You never even gave me anything like a fair chance! If you'd even met me half-way, that would've been something, but you never even did that. You never even gave me that much consideration or respect. Instead, you took one look and judged me before you even knew me. You turned your back on me, just like everybody else does; just like everybody else turned their back on _you."_

Jenny winced as she realized with a start that Sheldon was right once again. From the very beginning, she _had_ tended to reject him, just as others had rejected her.

"Now, tell me," Sheldon continued. "And be honest. How would it make you feel if others treated you the exact same way you treated me? If other people judged you before they knew you? Rejected you, and turned their backs on you, the way you did to me?"

Jenny shut her eyes tightly, squeezing back tears that she felt were coming. Again, she couldn't answer; the truth was too painful.

"Or how would it make you feel if your friends, Brad and Tuck, were…oh, I don't know…playing a game or something, let's say." he went on. "And you really wanted to join them and play, too. Only instead of inviting you to join them, they coldly brushed you aside and said, 'Don't bother us, Jenny! We're very busy right now with _human_ business! You wouldn't understand! It's none of _your_ business anyway!' Now tell me: How would it make you feel if they ever said anything like that to you?"

Jenny shuddered; though she couldn't imagine her friends ever treating her in such a cold and brusque manner, she nevertheless could easily imagine how hurt she would feel if they ever did. She remained silent, but the tears rolling down her cheeks gave Sheldon all the answer he needed.

"And remember how it felt when the Crust Cousins made fun of you and called you names?" he continued, softly. "Remember how it hurt inside when they called you things like 'Frankenstein' and 'bucket of bolts'? Things like that?"

Jenny cringed at the painfully-vivid memory, and silently nodded.

"Well…that's how_ I_ felt when you called me 'crazy loser stalker geek' and—and other things I've heard you call me…" He said, quietly. "Only in my case, it hurt more, 'cuz I had to hear it, not from somebody I hated, but from somebody I really, really liked and admired; somebody I really, truly cared about."

Jenny lowered her head in shame at the memory and wiped her eyes. That was so long ago that she'd spoken those words, she'd hoped that Sheldon would have forgotten about them by now. But, clearly, he hadn't. As she herself knew all too well, one could never entirely forget such hurtful words; not ever.

"I guess that's the hardest thing of all for me to understand," Sheldon said, evenly. "And it's also the most ironic. I mean, here you are, you don't like being excluded or discriminated against for being a robot…and yet, from the very beginning, that's _exactly_ how you treated _me,_ for being…well…for being what I am." He shrugged. "I can't change what I am, any more than you can change from being a robot." He paused, then continued in the same quiet voice, but now intense, and heavy with meaning. "I'd have thought that you, of all people, would know better than to judge people based on appearances and first impressions… That you, of all people, would…look at the person on the_ inside, _rather than judge by how they look on the outside… Especially after your experience with the drama-club a few weeks ago! I'd have thought you'd have learned _something _from that! But…I guess I was wrong."

His words stung; all the more because Jenny knew they were true.

"Sheldon," she said in a barely-audible voice, looking up at him. "I—I'm sorry about those things I called you… I didn't mean them… But—but be fair! That was a long time ago when I said that."

"True," he acknowledged. "But then, your opinion of me hasn't really changed all that much since then…has it…?"

"Sheldon," she said, awkwardly avoiding the question. "The problem's not just because of how you look. It's the way you sometimes _act_ around me that's the problem."

Sheldon paused thoughtfully before he replied, "And can you honestly say that _you_ never got carried away with your emotions? Like if you got really _angry,_ for example?" He paused, with a faint but meaningful scowl. "Or that you never acted inappropriately around others? Especially if, for example, you were near some good-looking guy that you really, really liked, and felt attracted to? Can you honestly say you never acted awkwardly in a situation like that? And said or did the wrong thing at just the wrong time? And then felt embarrassed about it?"

Jenny was again struck silent by his words, recalling the numerous times when she'd been reduced to girlish squeals and giggles of delight when in the close proximity of an attractive boy that she liked; occasions in which she'd nearly blown a fuse in her overheated excitement. Long moments passed before she finally responded, softly, "No," with a slow, defeated shake of her head.

"And can you honestly say that you've never been jealous?" Sheldon went on. "Of _anyone?_ And that you never…lost your head, and…acted in ways that you later regretted?"

Jenny winced as she heard the words. "You're…you're talking about my fight with Melody…aren't you…?" she said in a small, subdued voice, barely able to meet his eyes.

Sheldon nodded.

"How—how did you know about _that?"_ she asked, still unable to look at him directly.

"Oh Jenny, come on," he replied, gently. "It's no secret. The whole town saw it. It even made the 10:00 news that night. _Everybody_ knows about it."

She blushed a bright blue in embarrassment. She looked up at Sheldon imploringly, wanting desperately to say something in her defense…but no words would come to her aid. Jenny, in one of the rare times of her life, was literally speechless; at a complete loss for words.

In the silence that followed, she pondered and reflected upon all that Sheldon had said to her in the course of their long and intense discussion over the evening. She had never before heard Sheldon speak this way about anything, speaking so strongly, so passionately, with such eloquence, clarity and conviction, about all the deeply-held personal feelings that he'd obviously kept bottled up inside of him for so long. She'd had no idea that he had such depth of feeling within him; but then, she sadly reflected, she'd never really taken the time to really _listen_ to him all that much before, either. And, she had to admit, many of the points and observations he'd made and the conclusions he'd drawn were valid, however painful they might be for her to face.

She also now realized, for the very first time, the full extent to which Sheldon's feelings had been hurt by her actions and treatment of him, and not just from this latest incident at the secret-agent compound, either, but by many other things from the past as well. And that the cumulative effects of his hurt feelings had been simmering and building up inside him for a long, long time; almost the entire time they'd known each other.

"But…it doesn't matter now," Sheldon spoke up at last, his voice now firm and decisive. "Because now I understand how it is. It took me a while, but I finally get it now. I don't have to have a building fall on my head. You have other things to do, a lot of responsibilities; not only your duties as a superhero, but…other things, too. You're finally becoming more popular at school, you have some more friends now—and not just Brad and Tuck, either. You're more involved in school activities. You're finally being recognized and respected as a valuable member of the community. You have your own interests, your own activities, your own friends to hang out with, your own…_life_ to live. It's a good life, it's fulfilling for you, you're happy with it, and that's…that's all fine and good for you." He shrugged. "But…unfortunately, it's a life that…you obviously don't want _me_ to be a part of…in _any_ way. You want me out of your life…completely…" He paused, then continued, quietly. "Because, the truth is…you don't like me…you never did…and I now know that you never will. You—you don't think of me as a friend; not a _real_ friend, or you wouldn't have treated me the way you did." He paused, swallowed, then slowly nodded his head, as though finally accepting and resigning himself to a painful reality. "I see that now… I understand… I get it…"

Jenny started to respond, but Sheldon stopped her with a raised hand, and he went on, his tone acquiring a hard, bitter edge:

"But you know what? After the way you treated me, after the things you've done to me…I—I don't even _want_ to be part of your life anymore anyway." He paused, took a deep breath and pressed on. "I just don't care anymore. And I don't… I don't…" His voice now breaking, he dropped his eyes, unable to look at her directly. Then, with a slow, sad shake of his head, he continued, speaking haltingly, wincing with each word, as though they caused him physical pain to speak aloud:

"_I don't want to be friends with you anymore, either..." _

Jenny's mouth dropped open at the words that she'd never, ever heard from anyone before in her entire life, and which she'd _never_ expected to hear from Sheldon. The words struck her with the force of a concussion-grenade fired to her midsection at close range, exploding deep within her, shattering her insides and leaving her reeling in shock from the impact; so stunned was she that she momentarily found herself unable to move or even speak.

"At one time I did..." Sheldon went on, quietly. "But not anymore. Because _now, I know better! Now, I know what you're really like!_ And the truth is, _you're just not the nice person I thought you were._ And I _know_ I'll never be able to trust you again, either…" he paused. "And I think that's what hurts me most of all: _the fact that I now know that I can never, ever trust you again."_ He paused and shut his eyes tightly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

He wiped his eyes, then went on, speaking in a low, quiet tone, almost as though he were speaking to himself rather than to Jenny. "I suppose I was a fool for ever thinking I _could_ be friends with you in the first place. I suppose I should have known better… Believe me, I'll never make _that_ mistake again." He shuddered with one final sob, then said, softly, haltingly, his eyes tightly shut. "Still…it is a shame that, with all your—your powers, and all your capabilities, Dr. Wakeman apparently forgot to also program you for _kindness..."_ he half-whispered. "Yeah…it's a real shame…"

He paused, swallowed hard, then finished. "So…you can just…hang out…with your _friends_…and do…_whatever_ you want…and I won't…" He swallowed hard, and turned away, unable to even face her. "I won't bother you anymore." He now spoke so softly, he could barely be heard at all. "I won't come anywhere near you, I won't try to talk to you, I'll just…stay out of your way, stay _far_ away from you from now on, and just…leave you alone… Which is all you _ever_ wanted from me, right from the start…"

In the stunned silence that followed, Jenny's first reaction was, predictably, one of hurt, angry rejection, and she once again felt her temper rising. Her immediate impulse was to simply leave in a huff, to turn right around, walk straight out the door and never look back. _Okay, fine! _she thought, in a growing pique. _I tried! I tried my best to apologize! _ _Nobody can say I didn't try! I made my best effort, but he wouldn't accept it! So, all right! Fine! I can just walk away from him right now, and finally be rid of him once and for all! And I'll never again have to deal with him constantly getting in the way, making a pest of himself and embarrassing me in front of others or anything else! All I have to do is say, 'Okay, Sheldon, if that's the way you want it, then fine! I'm outta here!' And turn around and walk out. And that'd be that! That'd be the end of it! It would be so easy! Then I'd never have to see him or deal with him ever again!_

And for one brief nanosecond, Jenny seriously considered it, and almost started to turn to leave… And in the past, that would have been Jenny's typical reaction.

Only now…something held her back. _Something_ deep inside her stopper her, held her hurt anger in check, and she found herself unable to leave. And in the space of another passing nanosecond, she began to think…and to reconsider.

_But do I really want that?_ She wondered. _Do I __really__ want Sheldon out of my life completely? Forever? At one time, I thought I did; but now…I'm not so sure. Yes, he can be annoying sometimes, and he does sometimes get on my nerves and get in the way… But…on the other hand…he's really not such a bad guy… His heart's in the right place most of the time… And he does do a lot of really nice things for me, too; a lot of kind, thoughtful things…_

Almost out of reflex, she looked down at her arm, at the formerly smashed and misshapen metal plates and segments that had been lovingly restored to mint-condition only a short while ago by Sheldon's skilled hands; she lightly stoked the area with her fingertips in silent admiration of his skills, talent and obvious devotion.

_And in spite what he says now,_ she thought,_ I just know that, deep down inside, he really does care about me, in his own nerdy, geeky way… Sure, he's hurt and angry at me now; and who can blame him? I certainly can't… 'Cuz he __does__ have a point: I hate to admit it, but I __haven't__ always treated him fairly…__or__ given him a fair chance… So yeah, sure, he __is__ hurt and angry now… But even so, I can't believe that he doesn't still have __some__ feelings for me…somewhere inside…_

She looked at him now, at the small, pitiful figure standing opposite her with his head bowed, trembling with suppressed emotion, his heart obviously breaking, yet fighting valiantly not to show it.

_And can I just turn my back on him and walk away from him now?_ Jenny asked herself._ When he's obviously still hurting inside…? Can I do that…? Can I really…abandon him…? Now…? _

_But he always was kind of a nuisance, though!_ she argued with herself. _And do I __really__ want a nuisance like him for a friend? Hanging around me constantly? Do I really need friends __that__ badly? And with a nerdy friend like him hanging around me all the time, I suppose I can just kiss my chances of school popularity good-bye! _

_Plus, he __did__ say some hurtful things to me just now…_ _Terribly hurtful things… _

…_but… _she reminded herself just as quickly. _That doesn't necessarily mean they're not true_…

So Jenny was faced with a choice; the toughest choice she'd ever had to face in her entire life, much more difficult than she'd ever imagined it could be:

To walk away from Sheldon and be finished with him once and for all? And in so doing, abandon a true friend, whose value she'd only just recently come to fully appreciate?

Or to stay…and try one last time to make up with him?

Silently, carefully, she weighed her options, reflecting upon all that happened between them over the years, all that she had thought and felt and experienced throughout that long, difficult and challenging day, and all that had been said between them in the course of that long and emotionally charged discussion. And, finally, she asked herself exactly how she really felt about Sheldon, and just what he really, truly meant to her…

She pondered all of these thoughts and feelings, weighed all the factors and considerations very carefully, and within the passing of another nanosecond, she knew exactly what she had to do…

* * *

End Chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11-Reconciled

_Author's Note: First off, my apologies for the long delay in updating. Two conventions in two months put me a bit behind my usual writing-schedule; hence, the delay. (Bet you guys thought I forgot about this story or gave up on it or something, huh? Not by a long shot…)_

_Anyway, this is it, dear readers, the end of a long journey: The Final Chapter of our little saga. Once again, a big thank-you to all my loyal readers for sticking with this long, grim story and seeing it through to its conclusion. All good things, as they say, must come to an end..._

**Resolution**  
A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic  
By Shvique

**Chapter 11—Reconciled**

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity had passed, Jenny spoke. She'd made her decision.

"Sheldon," she began quietly, haltingly, her head bowed, her eyes still tightly shut. "I—I know I haven't been a very good friend to you…at _all…_ I know I haven't treated you very well…or shown you as much appreciation as I should have…" She paused. "I know I've…treated you…_badly,_ in fact. I know I've…_wronged _you…in a _lot_ of ways…" Slowly, she raised her head to look at him directly. "I know I'm not perfect. I know I've made mistakes, and I've…done things that were wrong. I'm sure I'll probably make a lot _more_ mistakes before I'm finally ready for the scrap-heap one day! But let's face it, Sheldon: we've _both_ made mistakes. You know that's true. We've _both_ done things that…that we shouldn't have…that we wish we hadn't…that we're sorry for..." She paused and lowered her head again, mustering up the last bit of courage for the most difficult part that was to follow. "I know it's sometimes hard for me to keep my powers—_and_ my temper—under control… I know I sometimes lose patience with you and I get angry… And I know I've been…" She hesitated, then went on, wincing with each word. "…kind of…_mean_ to you…sometimes…and I know I've…_hurt_ you…" She hesitated again, dreading the words she knew she had to speak. "You have every right in the world to be angry at me now…and—and I wouldn't blame you one bit if you never wanted to speak to me again…" her voice dwindled to a tiny whimper, then fell momentarily silent.

She pressed painfully on. "And I—I don't blame you one bit for not wanting to be friends with me anymore, either! But…but Sheldon," she paused, with a tiny sob. _"I_ don't want to lose _you_ as a friend! I really don't…! In spite of what you think, I really _do_ want you to be part of my life! 'Cuz you're _right!_ You _have_ been good to me! Good to me and _kind!_ And I _do_ appreciate all the nice things you do for me! I—I know I don't always show it…but I _do_ appreciate them, I really do…" she continued, her voice breaking.

Slowly, reluctantly, Sheldon turned to face her and patiently waited, wondering what could possibly be coming next. The tension in the air was thick, heavy and palpable, highly-charged, like the atmosphere just prior to an electrical storm.

"And…and so I'm telling you now," Jenny went on, looking him directly in the eyes, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "That I really, truly am _sorry_ for what I did, for—for _all_ the things I did! I'm sorry…and I'm _ashamed_ of myself. _Please_ believe me! I'm sorry I got angry and attacked you with my laser-cannons. I admit that was wrong of me. I promise I won't _ever_ do it again! I'll never do _anything_ like it again, I _mean _it! I'll _never_ use any of my powers against you, to hurt you, or mistreat you in any way ever again, I _promise!"_

She sobbed heavily and continued, in a quiet, subdued, utterly defeated voice. "I'm…I'm sorry for…the other ways I've wronged you in the past, too…abandoning you in outer space and—and…_everything!"_ She paused only for a moment to wipe her eyes. "But if—if you can…somehow find it in your heart now to…to _forgive_ me…and give me another chance…then…I _promise_ I'll make it up to you…try really, really, _really_ hard, and…be a much _better_ friend to you in the future."

She finished, her hands gently clasped together in humble supplication and looked at him, her eyes welling with tears. "Please…? Sheldon…? Please…? If you ever had any regard for me at all…if you ever really cared for me even half as much as you always said you did…then _please_ give me another chance… _Please_ forgive me…" she implored, hopefully. "Please…don't..._hate _me…" she whispered. "Please give me another chance... Please…_forgive_ me…"

Sheldon regarded her in total silence, privately at war with himself, with the conflicting emotions and impulses roiling deep within him. _Could_ he forgive her for what she'd done? He wondered. For _all_ the things she'd done? _Should_ he forgive her? Did he even _want_ to? Did she mean _anything_ to him anymore?

_Forgive her?_ He thought, bitterly. _That's asking a lot! An __awful__ lot! After what she did? After __all__ the things she did? I've already done a heck of a lot for her, and what have I got to show for it? What did I ever get in return? Not much, that's for darn sure! Not much at __all__! Nothing but heartache and endless humiliation! So what would I gain by forgiving her? I mean, what would I really get out of the deal? Would I get anything at all?_

_But…_ he thought. _On the other hand…staying angry at her probably won't get me anything, either… I mean, what would that get me? More knots in my stomach? More sleepless nights? And heck of a lot more crying? _

And lastly, as he looked into Jenny's tear-filled eyes, he found himself wondering the inevitable question. _And…really…honestly… _he asked himself. _Could I __really__ stay angry at Jenny forever? Even if I really, really wanted to, with all my heart? Even if I had a gazillion and a half good reasons to stay angry at her from now 'til doomsday…could I __really__ stay angry at her…forever…?_

He looked at her, now looking so forlorn and heartbroken herself, and he realized that this was the first time in his life that he'd ever seen her looking genuinely sorry for _anything_ she'd done to him. And the longer he looked at her, the more he began to realize, little by little, that he no longer felt quite the same need to _stay_ angry at Jenny. Now that he'd finally gotten the opportunity to express to her all the deep-seated hurt feelings, anger and resentments that he'd kept bottled up inside for so long, the pain associated with those wounded feelings began to subside…

Seconds seemed to stretch into hours, moments into eternity, as the heavy silence and quiet tension weighed down heavily upon them both...

Finally, after an interval in which it seemed as though time itself had stood still, Sheldon released a deep, heavy sigh and relaxed his shoulders, all the muscles of which had been pulled taught like piano-wire. "All right," he said in a weary, defeated voice. "All right… I—I accept your apology… I forgive you."

After a moment's thought, he quickly added, "And—and I'm sorry too, for all the stuff _I_ did, from—" he gulped, recalling the painful memory. "From stealing your plans last year, to getting mixed up with that stupid, creepy, secret agency, and—other stuff, too."

Jenny also seemed to relax then, all the servomotors throughout her body slackening simultaneously, and she eased into a more familiar, relaxed posture.

She gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. "Then can we be…friends again…?" she asked, in a timid little voice, slowly extending her metal hand to him in friendship.

Sheldon recoiled, and immediately began to tense up again. _Friends?!_ he thought briefly, with a last lingering trace of bitterness._ After the way you've treated a so-called 'friend?' _

"Please? Go on," Jenny said, shaking her hand invitingly and attempting a reassuring smile. "Take it. It won't bite you." She paused, awaiting some kind of response from Sheldon. When none was forthcoming, her weak smile faded, and her eyes once again began to moisten. "Please, Sheldon," she said, earnestly. "Please…just so that you'll know there's no possible misunderstanding, no lingering doubt in your mind. Just so that you'll know I'm not blowing this off or treating it as a joke. I'm asking you now, as honestly…as sincerely…and as _humbly _as I can: Please, Sheldon…please… Be my friend." Her voice was now soft and small, its tone heavy with sincere, heartfelt emotion.

Finally, timidly, Sheldon reached out his hand, tentatively took hers, and clasped it in his own. As he held the cold steel hand, the thought suddenly occurred to him that this was actually one of only a few occasions in which he'd had the opportunity to hold Jenny's hand in friendship, rather than one of the many times when he'd been called upon to make small technical repairs or modifications to her body. The sensation of holding the cold, metallic hand was eerie, uncanny, vaguely unsettling in a way he couldn't quite define; quite unlike anything he'd ever felt or experienced before. And, surprisingly, not altogether as pleasant as he'd always expected it to be, either.

"Friends," he said at long last, forcing a weak half-smile onto his face.

After a moment, a new thought occurred to Jenny. "Tell you what," she said. "Let's make a fresh start, _as _friends. Okay? No hard feelings, no grudges. Let's…let's just put it all behind us…and make a completely fresh start. Okay?"

Sheldon thought about it for another long moment, then he nodded. "All right," he said quietly.

"Great!" Jenny said with a relieved smile and a nod, as she shook his hand. "And…I'll tell you what. I'll make a deal with you. In addition to my promise to never hurt you or mistreat you, I also promise to…" she paused, trying to find just the right words. "You know…_include_ you in more of my activities, and not make you feel left out. 'Cuz you're right! That _does_ feel rotten, being left out, and excluded by other people. I know _exactly_ how it feels! So I promise I'll try real hard in the future not to…you know…make you feel 'frozen out.' Okay?"

Sheldon nodded again. "Okay," he said, simply.

"And…in return," Jenny went on cautiously, choosing her next words very carefully. "If you can…promise _me_ to…knock off the…_weird_ stuff…like some of the stuff you _used_ to do. Just…promise not to do it anymore. Okay?"

The weak smile on Sheldon's face quickly vanished. He blinked and stared at her with a quizzical frown.

"Come on. You know what I mean." Jenny went on. "The _weird_ stuff. Like following me around_ everywhere,_ at school and…other places. Practically shadowing my every step. Sneaking around behind my back. Giving me those creepy 'long stares' from a distance. Acting all obnoxious and jealous if I look at another guy or date other guys or whatever. You know: that whole 'stalker' bit. Because that stuff _really_ gets on my nerves! Or any of the other, _really _weird stuff. Like spying on me through my bedroom window! Or sneaking into my house! Or—"

"_But I haven't even been—"_ Sheldon began to protest, but Jenny raised a hand, stopping him. She continued, but in a softer tone.

"I'm sorry I brought it all up again," she said. "And I know you haven't been doing that…weird stuff anymore lately—mostly 'cuz you've been mad at me. And I—I understand... I get that. But…" She hesitated again, gesturing aimlessly with her hands, as she struggled to find the words to adequately express what she was feeling.

"But…you know, you don't have to…_avoid_ me completely, but just…" She paused again, awkwardly, still groping for just the right words. "If you could just…promise to…_respect_ me. That's all I want. Just…respect me. Respect my privacy, respect my personal space, and not be so…so _intrusive_ and _clingy_ and _needy_ all the time. Just…tone it down and _cool_ it a bit. Okay? Please? Just…just treat me like a _person._ You know, with _respect;_ the same way you'd like to be treated. That's all. After all, I _am_ a person, you know. Even if I _am_ a robot!" She smiled for a fleeting moment.

Sheldon frowned. "Well…yeah, but…respect is a two-way street, Jenny," he pointed out. "I mean, _I'm_ a person too, and I think I _also_ deserve to be treated with some respect."

"I know, I know…you're right," Jenny conceded with a nod and a raised hand. "I admit I haven't always treated you very—" she hesitated at the painful admission. _"Respectfully_ in the past. But that'll change, I promise! I promise I'll do better with that!" She nodded with a reassuring smile. "Honest, I will! You'll see!"

But Sheldon still didn't look quite convinced, so Jenny tried again.

"Suppose we do this," she said. "Suppose we just…_both_ agree to…_respect _each other. For example, I promise to…_listen_ to you more in the future, and not just…'blow you off' and 'brush you aside,' like I used to. And in return, if you could promise _me _no more weird stuff, and no lies or deceit. We'll just…agree to always be honest and upfront with each other, and _respect_ each other from now on. Okay?"

She paused, waiting for a reaction of some kind from Sheldon. But there was none. "Come on," she prompted. "Please? It's not really so much to ask, is it? To just…knock off the whole weird 'stalker' bit, and just respect me, and be honest with me? Believe me, Sheldon, if you could agree to do just that much at least, it'd make it a whole lot easier for me to be friendly to you, and treat you with respect in return."

Still, Sheldon hesitated, as he nervously glanced in the direction of the secret, hidden compartment of the workshop, where he kept Silver Shell hidden away. _But what about Silver Shell?_ he wondered. _That 'mutual respect' stuff sounds fine and good and all,_ he thought._ But if complete honesty is what Jenny wants, then complete honesty is what she's going to get! And that means she'll __have__ to be told about Silver Shell! And I just __know__ she's not gonna like it!_

Jenny noticed his hesitation. _Come on! _She thought. _Is it really such an unreasonable request? _"Well…?" she asked, after another few moments had passed. "Have we got a deal or not?"

At last, Sheldon sighed. _Now's not the time for telling her,_ he decided_. She'll have to be told about Silver Shell eventually…someday…somehow…but…not now. This just isn't the time for it…_

"Okay. I promise." He said at length. "No lies, no deceit, and no more spying or 'stalking,' as you call it, either. That whole bit _stops,_ as of right now. That won't happen anymore, I _guarantee_ it." And this time, Sheldon actually _meant_ it. After all the emotional turmoil he'd had to endure over the past two weeks, there was no way he was going to put himself through that whole emotional meat-grinder ever again, if he could possibly avoid it.

When Sheldon made his promise, Jenny broke out in a huge, warm smile, the kind of smile that, at one time, could have brightened the gloomiest day for Sheldon; the kind of smile that he had once longed to see her display just for him, but which she seldom ever did.

And as she beamed glowingly at Sheldon, a new thought occurred to her. She suddenly realized that, after all that had happened between them over the years, after all that she'd felt and thought about throughout that long, exhausting day, and all that she now understood about Sheldon, about how deeply and passionately he felt about her, about so _many_ things, and how much she truly owed him for all he'd done for her…somehow, she just knew that a simple handshake wasn't quite enough anymore. No; something more was needed.

She gently pulled on Sheldon's hand, drawing him close to her, and in a quick movement, she gathered him up in her arms, holding him closely, tightly (but not _too_ tightly, she quickly reminded herself, so as not to accidentally injure him) and embraced him in a huge, welcoming, _comforting_ hug.

Sheldon was so stunned at first that he couldn't even react. He merely blinked in surprise, now completely and utterly baffled by the sudden change in Jenny's mood and behavior. Only the week before, Jenny was attacking him with her laser cannons, as though she wanted to utterly destroy him. Then, a few moments ago, she was tearfully remorseful and apologetic. And now, she was all warmth and smiles, friendliness and hugs, as though nothing had ever happened between them. _What is going on here?!_ He wondered.

Sheldon merely shook his head in silent bewilderment. _Girls!_ He thought, puzzled. _I will __never__ understand girls!_ and he carefully—_very_ carefully—placed his arms around her, and tentatively returned her embrace.

She held him in her arms for a long, long time, gently swaying with him from side to side, as though reluctant to ever let him go. Her steel arms, powerful enough to destroy entire buildings with ease, now held him gently, tenderly, as though she were cradling a robin's-egg in her hands. She gently rested her head on his shoulder, and soon, she was crying openly again. "I'm sorry…I am _so, so sorry_ I _hurt_ you…" she softly, tearfully murmured over and over again, as her metallic fingers tenderly stroked his hair. "I'll _never, ever _do it again, I _promise…!"_

Sheldon trembled as she held him, she noticed, although whether it was from surprise, lingering fear or perhaps because he too was also now overcome with emotion, she did not know. But she _did _also notice that the longer she held him, the less he trembled, and he seemed to relax, apparently accepting her embrace; perhaps even—dare she think it?—perhaps even _welcoming_ it…

In truth, Sheldon was quite taken aback by Jenny's sudden and open display of such emotion. He'd never seen her like this before…and it quite perplexed him. He'd seen her happy, he'd seen her annoyed, he'd seen her frustrated, he'd even seen her angry…but he'd _never_ seen her in this state before, and he didn't know what to make of it.

But as Jenny held him in her arms, she felt enormous waves of relief wash over her, as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. All the guilt, shame and self-recrimination that had tormented her thoughts and emotions continuously, day and night, for two solid weeks, now seemed to flow out of her, first in a small, barely-perceptible trickle, then gradually growing into a torrent, taking with it all of the related corrosive effects which had been slowly eating away at her from the inside. And with the easing of the guilt and shame, her tears and sobs gradually began to diminish, and her emotional programs and subsystems likewise began to subside from their earlier chaotic state, gradually settling back into a normal state of equilibrium. For the first time in weeks, Jenny began to feel like her old usual self again. Relaxed. At ease. Comfortable and at-peace with herself and the world. She felt a deep and profound sense of satisfaction, happiness and contentment within her, such as she hadn't known for a long, long time…

And she suddenly realized something else too, something that she had never, ever expected in a million years. She discovered, much to her surprise, that holding Sheldon in this close, personal way wasn't the dreadful, repellent experience that she'd always expected it to be. As a matter of fact, it actually felt rather…_nice._ Deeply satisfying and comforting, but in a manner quite unlike anything that she'd ever experienced before with anyone. It was strange, but somehow…it just seemed perfectly _natural_ to her now; as though it was, in some strange, ineffable way, somehow always _meant_ to be…

She also now felt something for Sheldon that she'd never felt before: A certain _protectiveness,_ as though she wanted to shield him from anything in the world that could ever harm or injure him. It was a rare, unique feeling that she'd experienced before for only a select few, very special individuals, those particularly close to her: Her creator, of course, and also Brad, and especially Tuck. That intense, personal, overwhelming desire to shield and protect from harm, she now felt for Sheldon as well, though of a much greater degree and intensity than she ever would have expected, of such magnitude that it quite surprised her.

It was then that Jenny knew, for an absolute certainty, that she could _never_ do anything to deliberately hurt Sheldon ever again. No matter what the cause, no matter how angry—or even _furious—_she might become in the future, she would _never_ again allow her anger to get so out of control as to do him harm. She knew it, just as surely as she knew she could never harm her creator, or Brad or Tuck, for even the very thought of it now filled her with horror and revulsion.

After countless minutes in this quiet, tender, and uniquely _protective_ embrace, Jenny slowly…ever so slowly…almost _reluctantly_…began to release Sheldon from her arms. She stepped back and regarded him with a relieved smile on her pretty, robotic face, her eyes still glistening with lingering emotion. She reached up a hand to wipe her eyes in a quick movement, then cocked her head to one side as a new thought occurred to her. "Oh, wait a second," she said, with a light, musical laugh. "I still owe you one!"

With that, she extended her coil-like arms around Sheldon once more, embracing him in a second, even _bigger,_ more effusive hug, this time lifting him completely off the ground like a rag-doll, easily twirling him around and around in circles, with ecstatic squeals of delight and glee.

"There now," she said at last, as she gently set him back on his feet again. "That makes up for the hugs I _didn't_ give you on Cluster Prime and back here on Earth!" She smiled warmly at Sheldon, hoping to see the old familiar, crooked smile appear on his face that she'd come to know so well.

Then, on a last, sudden impulse, she leaned over…

…and kissed him on the cheek. Not a quick, impulsive, meaningless peck-on-the-cheek kiss, either, with little feeling behind it, but a long, lingering, lasting kiss, full of heartfelt emotion; full of meaning.

"And _that's_ to thank you for helping to bring me back home from Cluster Prime!" She said softly, with a gentle, friendly pat on the shoulder. "Now we're _really_ friends again!" She paused. "Okay?" she asked, hopefully.

With some lingering difficulty, Sheldon finally forced a smile onto his face. "Okay," he said with a simple nod. "Really friends."

Jenny gently took both of his hands in her own and looked deeply into his eyes. "I'm glad we had this talk," she said. "You've given me a lot to think about." She paused with a pleasant little nod, then continued. "A _lot _to think about. And…I meant what I said earlier, too: I _will_ make it up to you…someday…somehow…I _promise._ I'll make it _all_ up to you. You'll see." She nodded again. "Okay?"

Sheldon nodded in acknowledgment. "Okay," he replied.

Jenny continued to hold his hands, smiling warmly at him, then, slowly…ever so slowly, she released them, and turned to the door to exit. Sheldon reached for it and opened it for her, allowing her to step outside.

"Um…wanna…maybe hang out somewhere over the weekend?" she suggested, turning back to face him. "Would you like that? Mezmer's maybe? Or—or maybe we can hang out at the park…? Or maybe someplace else? Someplace that…_you_ might like…?"

"Sure, Jenny," Sheldon replied, with a simple nod.

"Great!" she said with a big smile. "See you tomorrow, then! Or Sunday, maybe!" With a final wave, Jenny blasted off with her rocket-jets and soared high into the evening sky, heading homeward. Sheldon waved after her.

As she soared higher and higher, Jenny felt elated, even euphoric, a feeling akin to the joy she'd felt years earlier, when she'd first been equipped with rocket-jets, and had taken to the skies for the very first time. She was glad that she'd had this long talk with Sheldon; glad and relieved. She was relieved, of course, to have finally gotten the opportunity to apologize and make up with him, but more importantly than that, she also now felt that she knew and understood a few things about him that she didn't before.

And she knew that things would be different between them from now on, too; different in a _good _way. Oh, she still had no romantic interest in him, of course; that hadn't changed. But she did now feel a certain…_understanding,_ a certain sympathy and respect for him that she'd never felt before. She now recognized him as a _person,_ with thoughts, feelings and passions of his own, and that he was driven by them, just as she herself was driven by her programming, and by her equally-strong passions.

And maybe…just maybe…Sheldon was right in a way, she thought. Perhaps, in some strange way, the two of them really weren't so very different from one another after all. They were, after all, both 'outsiders;' misfits, really, destined to never truly 'fit in,' be fully accepted or ever become part of the so-called 'popular crowd.' That being the case, then perhaps it was perfectly natural, even inevitable, for the two of them to turn to each other and become friends…

_But if only he could learn to respect my personal space!_ she thought in a final, lingering vestige of pique._ That drives me __crazy__!_ But even as she thought this, she wondered if perhaps Sheldon had now learned his lesson in this regard, just as she had learned hers.

_After all…_she reflected soberly. _As he pointed out, I haven't always treated him with much respect in the past, either... But…_She vowed with a decisive nod. _That'll change, and change for the __better__, just as I promised!_

In the end, Jenny had to admit that, on balance, Sheldon really wasn't such a bad guy. He had a good heart, and—when he wasn't busy being so darned obnoxious—he could even be pretty nice sometimes; almost sweet, in fact. When he wasn't acting so clingy, and possessive, and jealous; when he was more vulnerable and yet quietly assertive, as he'd been this evening, he could be downright appealing, in fact.

And she also admired him for speaking up for himself as he had. It took a great deal of courage for him to do that, knowing full well that she could have easily vaporized him with her weapons anytime she wanted to. And this self-assertiveness was certainly far more appealing than his formerly weak, somewhat submissive manner had been. And as he had demonstrated at the secret-agent compound, and on the voyage to Cluster Prime and back, he could be _very_ brave and courageous when the need arose.

Sure, he had his faults and drawbacks, and had made some dumb mistakes, but then, who didn't? Nobody was perfect. She certainly wasn't. She had certainly made more than her share of dumb mistakes over the years…as her creator and virtually _all_ of the teachers at Tremorton High would no doubt be only too quick to point out…

So even though Sheldon sometimes got on her nerves and made the occasional dumb mistake, Jenny still had to admit that, on the whole, he was basically a decent guy, and had a number of appealing qualities. Oh, he still wasn't 'dating material,' of course, and yet…on the other hand…now that she thought about it…

…she began to wonder if maybe going out on a date with him would really be such a bad thing after all…?

After all, she _had_ done worse—a _lot_ worse—on other dates she'd been on in the past…

_So would it really be so bad…?_ she now wondered. _Would it really be so terrible…? He really is a sweet guy, in his own sorta-dorky way… What have I got to lose? And maybe…just maybe…it could even be a good place for us to start getting back to being real friends again…_

Well…it was definitely something to think about it…and think about a _lot,_ she decided. And in the meantime, she resolved to treat him with more kindness, patience, and yes, even _respect_ from now on. Somehow, she just knew that doing so would make a big difference, and prove to be rewarding for them both in the long run.

With this final thought in mind, Jenny was just about to put on an extra burst of speed for the short distance remaining to her home, when a sudden, horrifying thought occurred to her, a remembrance of something utterly forgotten about in the course of the long, chaotic afternoon. Immediately, she felt a sinking feeling deep in her midsection, stopping her short in mid-flight. _Ohhhhhhhh, cripes!_ She thought, slapping her forehead in dismay. _Brad! I forgot all about Brad! The way I snapped at him earlier today! And yesterday too! And the day before that! And off and on over the past several days! _

Slowly, she closed her eyes as the sinking feeling inside her intensified. She knew that she still wasn't finished yet; there was still one more apology to make before the night was over…

_Ohhhhhhh…_ she silently moaned._ There's just no end to it…!_

With a sigh of weary resignation and a minor alteration in her flight-path, she bypassed her own house, and landed on the front doorstep of the house next door. She rang the doorbell, and waited…

The apology she would have to make to Brad also wouldn't be easy, but she knew she _had_ to do it. And after the intense emotional ordeal she'd just been through with Sheldon, an apology to Brad ought to be a relative cinch by comparison…

The door opened, revealing Brad standing there. "Jenny?" he asked, his eyebrows raised, evidently surprised to see her.

"Hey, Brad," she replied, with a weary smile. "Listen, I'm really, really _sorry_ for the way I've been acting lately." She went on, speaking rapidly. "I'm sorry I've been so crabby and irritable the last couple of weeks, snapping at you and everything... I—I didn't mean it." She paused and shrugged, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. "I've had some personal things on my mind the last few days, and I—I guess I just haven't been my usual self lately." She paused, easing into a sheepish grin. "And today—well…I guess you could say I was just having a _really bad day!"_

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Brad said, with a broad, easy smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. "I kinda figured something like that was going on."

"Yeah," she continued, her smile widening. "But it's okay, though. I'm still me."

Brad nodded. "Glad to hear it." His smile faded slightly. "Got it all straightened out now?" he asked cautiously, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "It's all straightened out now."

"Great…glad to hear it... Um…" he hesitated, trying to think of something to say next. He swallowed and said, tentatively, "I—I take it it's something you don't wanna talk about… Right?"

Her smile also faded, and she shook her head. "I…I think I'd rather not..." She said, quietly. "Like I said, it's…well, it's kinda personal."

Brad nodded, accepting her answer. "I understand," he said simply. He glanced away distractedly, and a brief, awkward silence followed for a moment. He then refocused his attention back onto her. "Um…wanna…come inside and play videogames with me and Tuck for awhile?" he asked.

She smiled and thought about it for a moment. "Um...thanks," she replied. "But…maybe some other time. It's been a really rough day, and I'm really, really tired. I need to get in some serious recharging-time."

"Oh. Okay." He replied with a smile and an understanding nod. "See you tomorrow then?"

"Sure! See you tomorrow. Skate-park down by the mall?"

"You bet! I'll be there! Around ten!"

"Great!" she said, her smile widening. "See you then!"

"See you," He gave a parting wave of his hand. "G'night."

She began to turn away, then stopped and looked back to him one last time. "Brad?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"You're a good friend." She gave him a final nod and a smile, then turned and headed back to her house.

"So're you, Jen; so're you." He smiled after her as he closed the door.

* * *

"I'm home, Mom," Jenny called out as she stepped inside the front door.

"XJ-9?" Dr. Wakeman called out from the kitchen. "Well now, you're home at last! It's getting late! I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you!" She approached her robotic daughter in the hallway, her expression grim. "So…how did things go?" she asked. "Did you see Sheldon? Were you…were you able to talk to him?"

"Yeah! Finally!" Jenny replied. "I've been over there this whole time, just talking things over with him. I'm sorry I'm home so late, but…well, we had a _lot_ of things to talk about. A _lot."_

"I see…" Dr. Wakeman hesitated, then pressed on. "You didn't—you didn't…'force the issue'…did you…?"

Jenny didn't answer, and avoided her creator's gaze.

"Welll…?" Dr. Wakeman asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Well…" Jenny said began, evasively.

"XJ-9…!" Dr. Wakeman's tone sharpened ever so slightly, and the eyes behind the thick glasses narrowed further.

"Well, I…I guess I _did_ sort of…_insist_…a _little_ bit… Because—just like you said—he _really _didn't want to talk to me. But still, I didn't exactly…you know, 'force' him or anything like that."

"I see," Dr. Wakeman said, staring coldly.

"And there was no crisis over there, either." Jenny added, trying to mitigate the issue with something positive. "You know; like what we talked about. He wasn't sick or anything, thank Jobs, and there were no sick or injured family-members, either, or anything like that." She hesitated, catching the stern look on her creator's face, then went on to clarify further. "He was just…really upset. And—like I said—he _really_ didn't want to talk to me…_at all._ But…eventually, he did."

"I see," Dr. Wakeman repeated, with a slightly less-sharp edge to her voice, apparently deciding not to pursue that particular line of inquiry any further. "So…were you able to make your apology to him, then?" she asked.

Jenny nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I apologized. _Finally!"_ She released a deep sigh of relief, then continued. "And you know what, Mom? You were right about the need for an apology. It really _did_ need to be said. And I'm glad I did it, because I _do _feel a whole lot better now!" She paused, then went on, more quietly, "A _lot_ of things needed to be said, as a matter of fact. It turned out we _both_ had a lot of things that we really needed to clear the air about."

"Mm-hmm…" Dr. Wakeman murmured non-commitally with a faint nod, as though she were merely hearing confirmation of something she'd already long suspected.

"But it wasn't easy, though," Jenny went on. "As a matter of fact…I think it was just about the hardest apology I've ever had to make. And I can't even say why, exactly. But…I said it, and in the end, I _finally_ got him to accept it and forgive me."

"Good, good, I'm glad to hear it…" Dr. Wakeman replied, then glanced up at the clock on the wall, and cleared her throat. "**Ahem** Listen, XJ-9," she said. "I know it's getting late, and I'm sure you'd probably like to turn in and get a good night's recharging, but I would like to run one last quick systems-check on you first. Right now."

"Oh, Mom…!" Jenny tilted her head back, rolling her eyes. "Do we _have_ to? I'm so tired, I feel like I'm ready to fall apart!"

"Yes, yes, I know. But it's important; _very_ important. And it'll only take a few minutes. I just need to check a few things."

Jenny sighed. "All right," she conceded wearily, then turned and headed for the lab, too fatigued to even argue about it. Dr. Wakeman followed close behind her.

"You know what, Mom…?" Jenny said, looking over her shoulder as she descended the stairs.

"Yes, XJ-9?"

"I think things are going to be a lot better between me and Sheldon from now on. A _lot_ better."

"Oh?" Dr. Wakeman replied, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. I think I understand him a whole lot better now than I used to."

"That's good, that's good… I'm glad to hear it."

"I'm also beginning to realize that I misjudged him in a lot of ways. Turns out there's a whole lot more to him than I used to think."

"Mmm…" Dr. Wakeman murmured noncommittally.

When they reached the lab, Jenny seated herself on the examination-table as usual, and patiently waited, as Dr. Wakeman retrieved an assortment of data cables from a drawer of the diagnostics console. Dr. Wakeman then turned and approached her robotic daughter. As she stepped closer, she noticed Jenny's arm.

"He repaired for your arm for you, I see." She noted, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah…yeah, he did," Jenny replied, holding out her arm for her creator to examine. "I was a little surprised, to tell you the truth. The mood he was in, I half-expected him to slam the door in my face." She paused. "But…he fixed it, just the same. And it didn't take him all that long, either; only a short little while."

"Hmmmm…" Dr. Wakeman murmured, as she took Jenny's forearm in her hands, examining the formerly-damaged area closely. After a few moments, she shook her head in amazement. "I can't even tell where the damage was, to be quite honest." She said. "Tell me, how does it feel? Does it feel all right? Any stiffness anywhere? Does anything feel loose or out-of-place inside?"

"No, no, it feels perfectly fine. Just like new, in fact! Everything's functioning perfectly! See?" She said with a smile, wiggling and waving her fingers this way and that, as though to demonstrate their full use and functionality.

"Hmmm…" Dr. Wakeman hummed, as she examined the area again, _very_ closely. "A very fine job, I must say. First-rate work all around." she said, with a tiny, satisfied nod. "Very good. I approve."

She then released Jenny's arm, and began connecting the various leads and electrodes of the data-cables to the data-ports in the back of Jenny's head, neck and all the other points around her body. As Jenny waited patiently, she looked across the lab, over to the storage/recharging-stations for her sisters, the XJ series 1 through 8.

"I sure wish my sisters were activated right now," she said, sadly. "So that I could apologize to them too, for the way I acted…"

"Well," Dr. Wakeman said, softly. "They _are_ your sisters, after all. I'm sure they'll understand and forgive. After all," she said with a smile. _"Oil is thicker than water!"_

Jenny returned her creator's smile. Then, suddenly, her smile faded, and after a brief silence, she said, "Mom?" her face now grim.

"Mm?"

"Do you think I'm cruel?"

"What? No, of course not!" Dr. Wakeman was so surprised at the question that she dropped a data-cable. "Whatever gave you such an idea?"

"Oh, nothing…" Jenny shrugged, and looked away. "I was just…wondering…"

Dr. Wakeman regarded her robotic daughter soberly for a moment before responding. "Is that what Sheldon thinks?" she asked, quietly.

Jenny turned to face her creator. Once again, Dr. Wakeman seemed to know _exactly_ what she'd been thinking. Jenny hung her head and closed her eyes, wincing, as she recited Sheldon's words. "He said I'm…cruel… And he said I'm a…bully…"

"Now XJ-9, you know that's not true."

Jenny slowly shook her head. "I don't know… I'm not so sure now…" she said. "I've been thinking about it and I—I guess I…_have_ been…kind of…_mean_ to him…sometimes… But _cruel…?"_ She turned to face her creator, her eyes glistening. "I mean…I'm not really like that…am I…? I'm not a…a…" she hesitated, then dropped to a whisper, as though ashamed to speak the words aloud. "I'm not a—a _bad _robot…am I…?"

"Of course not, XJ-9! You're a _good_ robot! And you're a good _daughter,_ too."

Jenny lowered her eyes. "It…it really bothers me." She said, in a small, quiet voice.

Dr. Wakeman thought quietly before she responded. "Well, did Sheldon say you were 'cruel' before or after your apology?" she asked.

"Before. And after. Sort of…both... Kind of…" She shrugged. "See, I actually apologized several times, and even though he _eventually_ said he forgave me…" She trailed off weakly, unable to continue, as though unconvinced by her own words.

"Well there now, you see?" Dr. Wakeman replied in an upbeat tone, as she picked up the dropped cable and connected it to a data-port. "You apologized, he accepted your apology, and he forgave you. Simple as that."

Jenny released a small, sad sigh. "Well…I'm not so sure…" she said. "Somehow, I feel like…maybe he didn't really believe me. He even _said_ at one point that he didn't believe in me anymore." She paused, then went on. "And the thing of it is…even though I apologized and everything, and even though he said he forgave me…I—I _still_ feel terrible about…what I did. I mean, I'm normally not like that. I don't know what got into me that day. I've never done anything like that before…to _anyone…"_ She paused and shook her head. "I just wish I could go back and…undo it all somehow…"

"I know, XJ-9; I know," Dr. Wakeman said gently. "Believe me, we've _all_ done things in life that we wish we could go back and change somehow. But…unfortunately, life doesn't come equipped with an 'undo key.'" She paused, then continued, softly. "That's something for you to think about, though, and bear in mind for the future: Actions _do_ have consequences, both good and bad, and living with those consequences is not always so easy. Or pleasant. But…" she shrugged. "It's something that we _all_ have to learn to live with and accept. It all ties in with _personal responsibility."_

Jenny silently regarded the tips of her toes for an immeasurable period of time before she spoke again. "'Cruel'…" she whispered as she slowly, sadly shook her head. "No one's _ever_ called me _that_ before… No one…" Her eyes began to tear up again.

"Well," Dr. Wakeman said at length. "I don't think there's any question but that what you did to Sheldon was wrong. There's no disputing that. And I won't try to excuse it, or minimize it, or sugarcoat it, either." She paused and sternly regarded her robotic daughter for a moment, allowing her words to penetrate. Then, her demeanor subtly softening, she went on. "But…that said, I don't believe you're really 'cruel,' per se. And I'll tell you why. The fact is, if you were really, truly cruel, then _none_ of this entire affair would have bothered you in the slightest. You wouldn't have gotten this upset about it, you wouldn't have felt guilty about it, and you probably wouldn't have had nightmares about it, either, with or without a conscience program. You'd have slept right through the night, just like XJ-1." She smiled, hoping to coax a similar response from her daughter.

But no smile was forthcoming. Instead, Jenny slowly turned to face her creator, her eyes now welling with tears. "Do you think he'll ever _really_ forgive me?" she asked, softly.

"Welll…" Dr. Wakeman began, after a long, thoughtful pause. "Perhaps he just needs a little more time. After all, he's probably had a pretty rough time of it too, these last couple of weeks. My guess is that, right now, he probably feels as though he's lost all faith and trust in you. Since it took a lot for _that_ to happen, then it'll probably take quite a bit of time for him to re-build that trust. You see?"

"I guess…"

"And they do say that 'time heals all wounds,' after all." Dr. Wakeman went on with a wry smile. "So just be patient with him. Give him time. Before you know it, you'll be back to being old friends again. And, as I pointed out earlier," her smile diminishing. "If _we_ can forgive him for stealing your plans last year, then_ he_ ought to be able to forgive you for—" she hesitated. "For what _you_ did to _him."_ She concluded, connecting a data-cable.

"I hope you're right," Jenny said. "But…oh, I don't know…" she paused. "I guess what bothers me is, the way I treat him sometimes, the side of me he tends to see most often…I don't feel that's…_me, _the _real_ me, inside. He was definitely right about that; I _don't_ treat other people the way I treat him. And I don't even know why I do it, either…but…when I'm around him…I just act differently, almost like I turn into a different person." She dropped her voice very low. "And I don't think I like the person I was turning into." She paused, then turned to face her creator. "You know what I mean?"

"I…think so…" Dr. Wakeman replied, guardedly. "So…could we say that this experience with Sheldon has caused you to…'see yourself in a new light', so to speak?"

"Yes! That's it exactly!" Jenny replied. "And—I didn't like what I saw at all. _ Not at all._ And I don't _ever_ want to see it in me again, if I can help it."

"Yes, yes," Dr. Wakeman replied, with a nod. "I think I understand what you mean..."

"I mean, I don't want to be like that," Jenny continued. "I don't _ever _want to be thought of as a—a 'mean girl,' like the Crust Cousins, for example," Jenny's expression turned sour as she recalled two notorious girls, and the many cruel torments they'd inflicted upon her in the past. "Or Pteresa. Or some of the _other_ snotty girls I know at school," she went on. "At one time, I wanted to be like them… You know: popular, like they are and everything, but now…" She shook her head. "Now, _I_ _don't._ Somehow, it's just not that important to me anymore." Her voice trailed off and she looked away for a moment, as though deep in thought; then she turned back to face her creator. "I guess the way I feel now is…if being popular means becoming everything I hate, and turning against my friends and hurting them, then I don't think I want popularity all that much anymore."

"Well now, I think that is an excellent point," Dr. Wakeman said, as she connected the last data-cable, then turned and walked back to the diagnostic console, where she sat down. "An _excellent_ point. It certainly is food for thought."

"I guess that's what you meant before, about me deciding what kind of person I want to be, huh?"

"Well, in a way," Dr. Wakeman replied, with a thoughtful nod. "Mostly, I was trying to impress upon you the importance of recognizing and accepting that you were in the wrong, and to take responsibility for it. Now, I must admit that learning to recognize when one is wrong—and take responsibility for it—is often one of the most difficult things for a person to learn. Some people _never_ learn it. But it's something that I, for example, had to learn very early on, as a scientist. A good scientist must be able to recognize when he or she is wrong, has made a mistake somewhere, or has even made a simple miscalculation; otherwise, they never get _anywhere."_

She took a deep breath and continued. "Now…take the Crust Cousins, for example. From what you've told me about them, it sounds as though they've both been terribly spoiled. It's my belief that they've probably _never _been disciplined, corrected, or reprimanded by their parents, and so they've probably never had to face any consequences for their actions. As a result, they've never had to learn to recognize and admit when they're wrong, or take responsibility for it. Even on the rare occasion when they _are_ forced to face the consequences, even then, they often don't admit it or accept the responsibility, do they?"

"No…no, they _don't!"_ Jenny said with an irritated frown. "Usually, they try to somehow blame it on somebody else; usually _me!"_

"Mmm…I suspected as much," Dr. Wakeman concluded her thought. "It's all part of the same psychological pattern. Never having been corrected by their parents means never facing the consequences of their actions, and never taking responsibility for it, resulting in lifetime avoidance of personal responsibility. _QED."_

Jenny remained silent as she mulled over her creator's theory to explain her tormentors' behavior. It was one possibility which she had never before considered, but which made a great deal of sense, now that she thought about it.

"But…" Dr. Wakeman went on. "In a way, I suppose the two of them are probably more to be pitied than hated."

Jenny looked away without a word, frowning at the wall.

"After all, unlike you, they'll probably _never_ learn," Dr. Wakeman explained. "And so, they'll probably never change. In years to come, they'll most likely remain the exact same pains in the neck that they are now."

At this, Jenny giggled, turning back to face her creator.

"But getting back to Sheldon, though," Dr. Wakeman went on. "Why do you suppose it is that you treat him differently? What is there about him that…causes you to react or respond differently to him than you do to anyone else?"

Jenny was struck by the question. She turned and stared off into space for several moments as she carefully pondered it. "That's a good question…" She said softly. "I'm…not really sure, exactly. I guess I…never really thought about it that much before. Part of it is just the really dumb, annoying things he does sometimes that really fry my circuits." For a brief moment, an irritated frown appeared fleetingly on her robotic face, before just as quickly vanishing, replaced by a look of tenderness. "But…other times…" she went on. "I can't help but feel sorry for him."

"Oh? Why sorry?"

Jenny thought deeply, choosing her words carefully, before she replied. "Because…sometimes I feel that…he wants more from me than I can give him. If that makes sense." She paused. "I mean…the poor guy deserves some happiness in life, I guess…but…" She shrugged. "I'm just not sure I can be the one who can give it to him."

Silence followed for several moments before Dr. Wakeman spoke. "But you say you're not _sure,_ though…" she said, quietly. From her tone of voice, Jenny couldn't tell if her creator was asking a question or making a statement.

"No…no, I'm not..." Jenny shook her head, then gently hugged herself with her arms, taking care not to disconnect the data-cables. "I mean, at first—and for a long time—I had a hard time dealing with all the constant attention he was giving me. You know: all that constant…_unwanted_ attention and…_affection,_ was a little hard for me to deal with. I wasn't used to it, and I guess I just didn't know how to…_handle_ it. 'Cuz…" She shrugged. "I only thought of him as…just…you know, a _friend,_ a _casual_ friend, that's all. And I never had any thought of being anything more than that to him."

She fell silent, and remained so for countless moments. Then, right when it seemed as though she'd concluded her thought, she went on.

"But now…I'm beginning to wonder if…maybe I was…wrong." her voice was now very soft, very quiet and subdued, as she mulled over her evolving and still somewhat conflicted feelings about her quirky little friend. "I've been wrong about so many things about him. Like I said earlier: it turns out there's a _lot_ more to him than I thought. He certainly has a lot more going for him than most of the guys I've dated. So now I'm beginning to wonder if…maybe I was…_wrong_ not to give him more of a chance. Maybe…I've been missing out on something all this time…" She paused, then dropped her voice to a near-whisper. "Maybe…maybe I _can_ be more than…'just a friend' to him…"

Dr. Wakeman took in her daughter's words in absolute silence, scarcely even taking a breath.

"Sometimes…" Jenny went on, speaking so softly now that it almost sounded as though she were speaking only to herself. "When I think about all the nice things he's done for me…" She raised her arm, examining the area that Sheldon had repaired for her, tenderly stroking its surface with her steel fingertips. "All the kind and…_thoughtful_ things he's done…I almost feel like…like…" Her voice trailed off, and faintly…ever so faintly…the LEDs beneath her cheeks began to glow, giving her the faintest trace of a blush.

"I don't know," she said at last, with a weak smile and a quick, dismissive shake of her head, the glow of her LEDs immediately vanishing. "I'll have to think about it some more…and my 'thinker' is too tired to do it now!" She grinned at her creator with an embarrassed shrug.

"You really do care about him, though…don't you?" Dr. Wakeman asked softly, with a gentle, knowing smile.

Jenny again fell silent, as she pondered the question. "I think…maybe I do... In some nutty kind of way…I guess I _do_ care about him… More than I thought I did, anyways..." She said. "I mean, some of the things he does still kinda bug me…and part of me still feels sorry for him, too… But now…now I feel something different for him that I never felt before." She paused. "Like earlier today, when I thought he was missing…and I didn't know where he was, or what happened to him…and I was afraid he might be sick, or hurt somewhere or…" She paused with a shudder, then went on, quietly. "Or later on, when he didn't want to talk to me on the phone… Or after that, when I finally _did_ get a chance to talk to him, and we…talked about—about some…" she hesitated. _"Personal _things…" she trailed off, feebly.

She shut her eyes tightly with a brief shake of her head, as if to dispel her more disturbing recollections. "I do know one thing though," she went on, her eyes now open and her tone now firm. "And that is, I really do want to try to make it up to him…somehow. If he'll let me, that is…" She paused. "After all the nice things he's done for me, all the favors and everything and… after what I…" she hesitated. "_…did_ to him, I feel like I really do owe him _something,_ to try and help make things up to him, and help him to forget about…about…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. "You know, just to prove to him that I'm _not_ 'cruel', that I _can_ be kind."

"Well, that seems like a good idea," Dr. Wakeman replied. "I mean, I don't think you necessarily have to 'prove' to him that you're not 'cruel' per se, but…doing something kind for him to try and make amends seems like a good idea." _As a matter of fact,_ she thought, _it's precisely what I had in mind when I suggested a 'peace offering'!_ But she remained silent, choosing to keep this thought to herself.

Jenny nodded to her creator, and went on. "Still…I guess I'm afraid that…maybe it's already too late. I'm afraid that…from now on, he'll never trust me, or even _look_ at me the same way ever again. He'll only think about—" she hesitated. "About…you know…what I _did._ And I'm really not like that! I'm _not!"_ Her vocoder momentarily choked up with emotion. "I mean…I don't _ever_ want him to think of me that way. You know, something to be afraid of; a scary mechanical monster, liable to go off on a rampage at any moment or something! Because I'm just not _like_ that!" She sobbed, then continued, her voice now soft and subdued.

"But…I'm afraid that…from now on, whenever he looks at me, he'll only see me and think of me that way. I'm afraid that…he'll only remember me at my worst, without ever remembering me at my _best._ If that makes sense."

"It does, it does," Dr. Wakeman nodded. "It makes perfect sense. But tell me this: Have you ever _told_ Sheldon that you care about him? At all? Or showed it to him? In _any_ way?"

"No…no…" Jenny shook her head. "At least…not as much as I probably should have, I suppose..." _Not 'til today, that is!_ She thought. "A couple of times I…_sorta_ did, but…I guess I was afraid to show him any more than that."

"Oh? Why afraid?"

"'Cuz…I thought he was liable to…take it the wrong way and…overreact." She shrugged. "He has a tendency to do that sometimes, you know; overreact and go a little overboard."

"Don't we all?" Dr. Wakeman asked with a wry smile.

Jenny immediately caught her creator's meaning, and she grinned widely, accompanied by an embarrassed blush. "Yeah…I guess…" she giggled.

"Still," Dr. Wakeman went on. "It wouldn't hurt to show him that you care about him, once in a while. Or at least appreciate him. After all, nobody likes to feel as though they're taken for granted. You certainly don't, do you?"

"Boy, _that's_ for sure!" Jenny nodded. She certainly knew how that felt, for her heroic efforts to sometimes go unrecognized or unappreciated, and it had always bothered her. "Still…even if I wanted to show him I care, how can I ever get him to trust me again after this?"

"Welll…" Dr. Wakeman drawled, with a wry smile. "You _do_ have a sweeter side to your nature, you know! He probably just hasn't seen it as much as the rest of us have."

Jenny giggled at her creator's words, and she blushed. "Oh, Mom!" she said with an embarrassed smile and a playful, dismissive wave of her hand.

"No, no, I'm quite serious," Dr. Wakeman went on, though she too now grinned widely. "Don't be afraid to show him that you have a sweeter side to your nature. Give it a try once in a while. And you might just be surprised at the results you'll get!"

Jenny's blush deepened and she averted her eyes demurely, failing utterly to conceal her embarrassed smile.

Dr. Wakeman regarded her daughter warmly for another long moment, then turned her attention back to the console, about to begin the diagnostic sequence.

Suddenly, Jenny spoke up, her eyes now wide open in near-shock. "But Mom…!" she exclaimed. "I just thought of something! This…this _conscience-program_ getting blocked and repressed and giving me these nightmares and everything! Suppose something like this happens again sometime? Suppose I…you know, really 'lose it' again someday and…_hurt_ somebody else?" She shuddered, and a slight quaver appeared in her voice. "Is there any way that you can somehow…you know, _'fix_ me,' so that this never happens again?"

Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, stroking her chin, deep in thought. "Well…" She began, pensively. "Wouldn't a better solution be for _you_ to try and…'fix it' yourself? And for _you_ to see to it that you never do it again?"

Jenny frowned quizzically. "I don't quite get what you mean," said with a brief shake of her head. "I mean, why's that better than you just…you know, 'fixing' me?"

"Well, isn't it better for _you_ to be in control of _yourself?"_

Jenny blinked. Of course; it seemed so perfectly obvious now. "Oh…yeah… I see your point," she nodded. "But still, couldn't you just…you know, reprogram me or something? Wouldn't that be easier?"

Dr. Wakeman looked at her daughter, her eyebrows arched slightly as she carefully chose her next words. "Well…_easier, _perhaps, but would that necessarily be _better?_ I mean, think about it. If I did that, I'd be taking away your _choice,_ your ability to decide for yourself, you see? You'd no longer be a _person, _but merely a mindless, soulless automaton." She paused and shook her head. "You wouldn't really want me to do _that_ to you…would you?"

"No…no, of course not." Jenny replied with a shudder.

"I shouldn't think so," Dr. Wakeman confirmed. "The ability to decide for oneself—one's 'Free Will'—is a vitally important part of what makes us—and you too, of course—_human._ You don't _ever_ want to have that taken away from you; not by me, not by anyone."

"No, no, certainly not!" Jenny agreed, with a decisive nod.

"That was my whole purpose in creating a conscience-program for you in the first place," Dr. Wakeman went on. "So that _you_ would be in control of your own thoughts, decisions and actions, and be responsible for them at all times. After all," Dr. Wakeman smiled wryly. "Your mother can't be with you and watch over you _all_ the time, and fix _everything_ for you! Nor do I think you'd _want_ me to, would you?"

In spite of the seriousness of the discussion, Jenny giggled. "No, no, _definitely_ not!" she smiled, remembering all the times in the past when she and her creator had clashed over that very issue: over Dr. Wakeman's need to assert authority and offer guidance, versus Jenny's need for independence and her desire to use her own judgment. "I see your point," Jenny went on. "But…oh, it's just so _hard _sometimes! So…_frustrating!"_

"Yes, yes, I know it is. It's _very_ frustrating at times. And challenging. And difficult. Nobody ever said it would be easy. But…it's all part of…" She chuckled, and went on. "Well, it's all part of growing up! Just as it's part of being human." Her face then resumed its usual serious demeanor. "And…well, it's also largely because of the heuristic nature of your AI architecture as well. You see, to properly learn to exercise Free Will, you really have no choice but to learn many things in life through firsthand experience; through trial and error."

Jenny regarded her creator quizzically. "Why? I mean, why did you…" She hesitated, then went on. "You know, why did you…_program_ me that way?"

Dr. Wakeman shrugged. "Because there really is no other practical way to do it," She said. "The reasons are rather involved, highly technical and complex, and would take far too long to go into and explain in detail tonight. But in a nutshell—and simplifying _greatly—_the short answer is that there's simply no other effective way to program you to…well, to be who you are and do what you do. You see, XJ-9, when I was working on your design, I soon realized that you would encounter many situations in your life in which a strictly algorithmic, step-by-step, by-the-book approach to your programming would simply be inadequate. There would be far too many variables involved in any real-world situation, too many unforeseen events that would crop up and change far too rapidly for me to anticipate _every_ possible move and counter-move you could conceivably make, and write the programming code for it all. Although I used _some _algorithmic structure for some of your basic mission-programming, I knew that for most real-world situations that you'd encounter, an algorithm just wouldn't be sufficient to do the job."

Silently, Jenny slowly nodded, as she absorbed her creator's explanation.

"What I needed therefore, was a essentially a problem-solving shortcut, and to get _that,_ I needed a self-teaching tool that would enable you to _think for yourself,_ and—where appropriate—make logical leaps, by which you would arrive at a solution much faster than would ever be possible with a strictly algorithmic model. In this way, you've learned to use your own judgment, and come up with your own solutions to various unique problems and challenges, and much more quickly than you could if you were simply following an algorithm. And, I have to admit," she said, with a chuckle and a semi-embarrassed smile on her face. "In _many_ cases, you've even managed to come up with ideas and solutions that _I_ never would have thought of!"

"That's true," Jenny nodded, her face brightening as the full meaning of the explanation became clear to her . "Like all those times when I was on my own in a desperate situation, and ended up in a real tight jam that wasn't exactly covered in my training or programming. And I had to think fast and improvise a quick-and-dirty solution to get myself out of it! Right?"

"Precisely!" Dr. Wakeman beamed proudly at her daughter. "That ability to think independently, creatively and _quickly_—to _'think outside the box,'_ so to speak—and come up with your own ideas and solutions _beyond_ what's been programmed into you, is largely a result of your _heuristic _programming. And as useful it is in the performance of your job-duties, it's _also_ useful when it comes to dealing with and interacting with people on an interpersonal level. In many ways, those situations are almost more complex and unpredictable than when you're battling a giant monster, for example, or deflecting an asteroid, or something of that nature."

"Yeah…yeah, _that's_ true…!" Jenny nodded with a smirk, as she recalled the countless challenges she regularly encountered, as she negotiated the treacherous waters of everyday life in high school.

"But…unfortunately," Dr. Wakeman went on, after a brief pause. "Even though this heuristic model has, for the most part, worked out quite well for you, it is, unfortunately, _not_ perfect, by any means. One of the drawbacks of having to learn things through first-hand experience is that it _also_ requires you to learn from your mistakes as well. And there are no easy shortcuts in this learning-process, either. You can _only_ learn by doing, and—yes—making mistakes; a _lot_ of mistakes."

She paused, then continued. "So…yes, it _is_ going to be frustrating for you at times. And of course, it's _always_ going to be more difficult—_and_ frustrating—to learn things for the very first time. And I know that you often feel that I…_interfere_ in your life a bit too much at times. But…all these things _will_ become easier in time, as you get older, become more experienced, more mature and more self-reliant. And the more you learn, the fewer the mistakes you'll make, in time. You'll see."

"I sure hope so," Jenny said, satisfied—at least partially—with her creator's explanation and assurances.

"I _know _so!" Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, beaming proudly at her robotic daughter. "Because _that, _you see, is why I made you the way you are," she went on. "That, along with your conscience program, is the whole reason why you exist; why you're a _person, more _than just a machine. Your self-aware ability to _think,_ to learn from your mistakes, take responsibility for them, correct them, and—hopefully—_avoid_ them in the future, all constantly work towards improving your own performance and abilities over time, allowing you to grow and develop and become a well-rounded, mature individual _person."_

Jenny now returned her creator's smile, though it was accompanied by a faint trace of a blush, and her eyes glistened with emotion as she took it all in. She remained silent for another moment, then asked, quietly, "Still…how do I know I won't do something like this again sometime in the future?" Though she tried to hide it, there was obvious fear behind her words. "I mean, how can I be _sure?_ I don't…I don't _ever_ want to risk hurting Sheldon again. Or any of my other friends either, for that matter."

Dr. Wakeman leaned back in her chair, deep in thought, and remained silent for a long time before she spoke. "I understand how you feel," she began, softly. "But unfortunately, there's no easy way to answer that. None of us ever knows what we're liable to do in the future when we're in a stressful situation. And we all have a darker side to our nature, with which we all must struggle every day. That, too, is part of being human. And it's also true for you as well. You're no different from anyone else in that regard. It's never easy for anyone to resist giving in to those darker impulses." She paused, and continued. "All I can suggest and advise is that, now that you know what you're capable of, and how serious the consequences can be, perhaps in the future, you'll be more careful about watching out for and recognizing the warning-signs of when your anger is getting out of control. And when you see those warning-signs appear, make an even greater effort to regain control of your emotions before you…you…" She trailed off, then pressed on. "Before you do something that you _can't_ fix or apologize for." She finished.

Jenny shuddered at the thought. "It…it kind of scares me."

"I don't doubt it," Dr. Wakeman replied with a nod. "It is a heavy responsibility for anyone to carry, after all." She paused, then continued, in a more encouraging tone. "But…it's a responsibility that I think you've managed to handle quite well. For the _most_ part, at any rate. And as for it 'scaring' you sometimes, well…I suppose it's somewhat good in a way that you feel that, so long as you don't allow fear to prevent you from doing your job."

Jenny still didn't look quite convinced. Or reassured. So Dr. Wakeman continued. "But…I'd say there is one good thing that we may take away from this entire experience with Sheldon, and it is this: It's proven the conscience program to be, in general, a fairly reliable program; a reliable and accurate indicator of when you're 'getting it right,' as well as when you're…'blowing it,' so to speak. So long as you remember to pay attention to it, that is, and learn to properly recognize and interpret its signals!" She eyed her daughter sharply with narrowed eyes for just a moment, then went on, her features softening. "_Listen_ to what the conscience program is telling you. Don't fight it, or block it, or repress it, the way you did _this_ time, and you shouldn't have too much difficulty."

Jenny smiled. _"'Let your conscience be your guide'?"_ she said.

"Exactly!" Dr. Wakeman replied, returning her daughter's smile. "Because you see, XJ-9, it's my firm belief that you're more than just the 'sum of your parts,' so to speak. There's more to you than just your circuitry and what's been programmed into you. There's a basic _goodness_ within you, that you must hold onto, and never, ever lose sight of. That's what makes you special and unique and important to us; not only to me alone, but to _all_ of your friends, and to the whole rest of the world as well. No other robot in the world is quite like you, XJ-9. Remember that. Even if I were ever to try to make another XJ-9, working from your original blueprints, and following every small detail _exactly_ as I did before, and even if I'd fed the same basic mission-programming, and even some of your memory-records and personality sub-routines into her, she _still_ wouldn't be another you. She might be very _close,_ very _similar…_but she still wouldn't be _you."_

Slowly, gradually, Jenny's smile diminished and her eyes moistened, as she contemplated the full implications of her creator's words. For a brief moment, she almost felt as though she was about to cry again. At that precise moment in time, she felt the deepest and most profound emotional bond and connection to her creator, along with a kind of warm, comforting glow deep within her; a safe and contented sort of feeling that she couldn't quite identify or describe…but it felt…_soothing, _somehow. _Comforting._ It felt…_nice._ Nothing else in the world mattered to her at that moment; all she wanted was to savor the experience of that soothing, nurturing feeling.

"And I know it's sometimes difficult for you," Dr. Wakeman went on. "I know you sometimes feel lonely, being the only robot like yourself in a world of humans, as you try to fit in and find a place for yourself. And of course, I know that you have your temperamental side, too. There will be times when you'll find it difficult to control your emotions, and you will have an occasional…_bad moment_ every now and then. As we _all_ do. But believe me, that too will pass, as you get older. It's a phase you will eventually grow out of, in time. And when you do, you'll find it much easier to present that sweeter side of your nature to the world, freely, without embarrassment, for all to see."

Jenny smiled again, but only for a fleeting moment; her smile quickly faded, as a grim recollection occurred to her. "Still…after what I did to poor Sheldon…" she shut her eyes tightly, and shuddered at the recollection. "I _still_ can't believe I did that! I'm going to have to live with the memory of it for the rest of my life! My _unnatural_ life!"

"Now, now, XJ-9, you mustn't speak of yourself so! I've told you before: You're a _good_ robot! And a good _daughter,_ too!"

Jenny was silent for another long moment, deep in thought; then, "Mom? Could you—"

"No, XJ-9!"

"But I haven't even asked you the question yet!"

"I know what you're thinking. You were going to ask me if I could erase the memory of what you did to Sheldon from your memory-banks. Isn't that correct?"

Jenny hung her head and slowly nodded, embarrassed at being so obvious and transparent in her line of thinking. Once again, it seemed as though her creator had read her very thoughts…

"Well, you may as well forget it." Dr. Wakeman said sternly. "I wouldn't erase that memory even if I could. I _want_ you to remember it. I _want_ you to remember _everything_ about this entire experience, every little detail, including your bad dreams, to make absolutely sure that you _never_ do anything like this again!"

"Well then, could I maybe use that time-machine you've got stored in the basement to go back in time and—"

"_Absolutely not, XJ-9_!" Dr. Wakeman cried, in her most-severe tone. "Don't even _think_ about it!"

"But I—"

"I said, _no!"_

Jenny looked up at her creator, and opened her mouth, about to argue further; then closed it again, and lowered her head. Her creator had spoken, and that was _it._ There was no point in arguing, once her mind had been made up.

"Now…I'm sorry to have to be so severe with you," Dr. Wakeman went on, her tone softening. "I know this is painful for you. But as I said: I want you to _learn_ from this experience. I want you to _think_ about what it's taught you, not only what you've learned about Sheldon, but also what you've learned about _yourself."_ She paused, and when she continued, both her tone and her expression softened still further. "Think about the way you react to such situations, and the manner in which you relate to others. And perhaps…give a moment's thought now and then to how another person might think and feel in a given situation. Stop...and _think_ for a minute, instead of just…'blowing your top.'" She finished, with a gentle, reassuring smile. "Okay?"

Jenny smiled weakly and responded with a small nod. "Okay, Mom" she said.

Though it was somewhat painful for her to admit, Jenny knew that her creator's words were reasonable and made perfect sense. There was still so much to think about, and yet, as always, her creator seemed to have a way of explaining it all to her that she found both comforting and satisfying.

A final, half-forgotten question occurred to her then, and tension immediately returned throughout her body. "Um…Mom…?" she asked in a tiny, meek voice. "Are you gonna…ground me…for what I did to Sheldon?"

Dr. Wakeman frowned at her daughter in chilly, excruciatingly long silence. "I should," she replied, at length. "You know…I really should. I _ought_ to ground you from now 'til doomsday for that!" She slowly shook her head disapprovingly, and continued, in quiet, razor-sharp tone. "In fact…to be perfectly honest with you, I _was_ prepared to do a lot more than merely 'ground' you, young lady! A _lot _more!" She stared coldly at her robotic daughter for eons of time, during which Jenny felt as though all the servo-fluids in her entire body had chilled by twenty degrees, as she pondered just what this 'a lot more' could have possibly entailed.

"But…" Dr. Wakeman went on, after another seeming eternity had passed. "Under the circumstances…" Another long pause. "…and assuming that I can be _reasonably assured_ that this sort of thing will _never, ever _happen again…"

"It _won't,_ Mom! It _won't!_ I _promise!"_

Another ice-age-long pause; Dr. Wakeman narrowly scrutinizing her robotic daughter like a culture in a Petri dish.

"Then…in this instance…" she continued. "I think we can safely say that you've already been punished enough by your own conscience, and that you've learned your lesson. So…I think we can just forget about…'grounding' you…_this_ time!" She eyed her robotic daughter narrowly at the last part, and Jenny nodded, having clearly received the message.

"Thanks, Mom," Jenny said in a tiny, meek, yet _relaxed_ voice, every servomotor throughout her body relaxing at once.

After a short silence, she said, very quietly, "Mom…?"

"Yes, what is it now?" Dr. Wakeman drawled, wearily.

"I—I really am sorry, you know."

Dr. Wakeman regarded her robotic daughter with a faint, but warm smile.

"Yes…Yes, I know you are, dear."

She then turned her attention back to the diagnostic console, about to begin the test sequence. Owing to fatigue however, she slightly misjudged the distance to the first series of switches she was reaching for, and her hand lightly brushed against the brim of the Wedgwood china teacup, set on the console surface hours earlier in the afternoon, and now completely forgotten about. The teacup, set ever-so-slightly off-balance by the movement, wobbled briefly for a moment, then toppled off the edge of the console and onto the hard concrete surface of the floor, shattering instantly into a thousand splinters and fragments.

"_Damn it!"_ Dr. Wakeman cursed. Reflexively, Jenny gasped, both at the unexpected shattering of the cup, and at her creator's uncharacteristic reaction; it was, in fact, the _only_ time in her entire life that Jenny had ever heard her creator utter a curse.

Dr. Wakeman bent down and picked up the two largest fragments of what remained of the teacup, and held them in her fingertips, examining them closely. The fragments were each no larger than a dime, but the partial remains of an elegant rose pattern could be clearly seen imprinted upon them. She regarded the shattered pieces in silence for a long moment, before releasing a deep, forlorn sigh.

"That was my favorite teacup, too." She said quietly, with a cryptic little nod. _"Damn…!"_ she repeated her curse softly.

"Can't you just get another one?" Jenny asked.

"No…not like this one. This one was special; one of a kind. It was the last remaining intact piece of a set that once belonged to my grandmother." She paused, then went on, her voice now very soft. "When my sister and I were very young and we used to visit my grandmother on the weekends, this was always my 'special cup,' the one she always set aside just for me." She fell silent, and a barely-perceptible quiver appeared in her lower lip. "I could always tell mine from all the others in the set, by the unique rose-pattern it had…" she said, softly.

"Can't you fix it?" Jenny suggested, trying to be helpful. "You know, glue it back together or something?"

"No…no… Not a chance..." Dr. Wakeman said, sadly shaking her head as she surveyed the profusion of tiny slivers and fragments scattered over the floor. "It's smashed now, smashed beyond repair... And even if I _could_ somehow repair it, it would _never_ be as it once was. Never…" She heaved another deep, heavy sigh. "You see, XJ-9, there _are_ times when it's simply not possible to fix things when they're broken…"

"I'm—I'm sorry, Mom…" Jenny said in a small, quiet voice. Somehow, she felt responsible, but didn't quite know why.

"Hm?" Dr. Wakeman murmured, looking up, almost in surprise, as though stirred from her private thoughts. "Oh, no, no, XJ-9; it's not your fault." She said reassuringly. "It's mine. I should have taken better care of it when I had the chance. Now…it's too late." With a final shake of her head, she reluctantly dropped the dime-sized fragments into the wastebasket. "As with so many things in life, we often don't fully value or appreciate what we have, until we haven't got them anymore…"

_Like having a good friendship, for example…!_ Jenny thought, idly.

"In fact…we could even look upon this as another 'learning experience,'" Dr. Wakeman went on. "The lesson to be learned in this case being to cherish and take proper care of what we have _now,_ while we still can, rather than be thoughtless and careless, only to regret it later on." She paused for a moment, then went on, her voice now quiet but heavy with emotion. "As we see…a moment of carelessness destroyed something that was _special; _something _unique_ and _irreplaceable._ Now…it's gone forever…"

An awkward silence followed, as Jenny struggled to think of something—anything—to say in response, that would help alleviate the situation. She lowered her head, trying to dispel the uneasy, unsettling feeling that she was somehow responsible; that it was somehow all her fault, in some strange, arcane way that she couldn't quite comprehend.

"Well…the damage is done," Dr. Wakeman said, resignedly. "There's no point in dwelling on it now. Nothing can be done about it now, in any event. I'll simply…sweep up the pieces in the morning. But for now," her tone shifted abruptly, resuming its usual, coldly clinical tone. "For now, let's focus on getting _you_ taken care of. Back to the diagnostic test."

With that, she set her jaw firmly and turned her attention back to the console. "All right now, you know the routine," she said. "Lie down and remain perfectly still during the test."

As instructed, Jenny lay down on the examination-table and remained absolutely motionless, not moving a servomotor.

Dr. Wakeman switched on the diagnostic equipment, adjusted the knobs and switches on its console, and entered a series of keystrokes, activating the diagnostic-sequence. The equipment hummed and clicked, displays and readouts flashed, blinked and flickered with data, and a printer produced the hard-copy results. After several minutes had elapsed, she entered some more keystrokes, turned and adjusted the switches and knobs once more, and ended the test. When the equipment was silent again, Dr. Wakeman began examining the results from the readouts and printouts.

"Hmmmmm…. All readings now within normal, even optimal, range." She said evenly, though with obvious relief clearly evident in her voice. "No more red indicators anywhere… The log for the conscience program is now clear… All emotional programs and sub-programs are now stable, back to operating at normal levels… All indicators now green, all systems well within normal operating parameters. So…" She took a deep breath, held it…then slowly released it in a deep, relieved sigh. She looked up and beamed at her daughter with a broad, satisfied smile. "Good news!" she proclaimed jubilantly. "Everything is back to normal! The hypothesis holds true! Removal of the conflict within the conscience program restores overall systems balance! Just as I thought it would." _And just as I'd __hoped__ it would!_ She thought.

Jenny blinked, half in relief, half in surprise. After the day she'd had, she was almost afraid to believe the good news when she'd heard it. "So am I…'cured,' then?"

"Yes, you're…_'cured!'"_ Dr. Wakeman nodded, her smile widening.

"Well, that's a relief, thank Jobs!" Jenny exclaimed, her entire body relaxing, as she shared her creator's elation, and returned her smile.

"Yes…yes it certainly _is,"_ Dr. Wakeman replied with another relieved sigh. "And, I think you'll sleep much more soundly tonight. There should be no more of those bad dreams! And since tomorrow is a Saturday, you can even sleep in late if you want to!"

"Great! Glad to hear it!" Jenny grinned. "I'm _definitely_ going to do that! I think I need it!"

Dr. Wakeman set aside the report on the console surface, rose to her feet, and walked over to the examination-table. She then began disconnecting the data-cables, pausing only occasionally to wipe her eyes.

Jenny noticed. "Mom…?" She said, quietly. "Is…is something wrong…?"

"What? No, no, dear," Dr. Wakeman smiled reassuringly at her daughter, as she wiped away a tear. "Just tired, that's all. And relieved at the positive test-results, of course."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure!" she nodded as she continued disconnecting cables.

"I—I _am_ sorry about your teacup," Jenny said softly. "I know how special it was to you."

Dr. Wakeman placed a hand comfortingly on Jenny's shoulder and looked into her eyes. "Listen to me, XJ-9." She said, gently. "Listen to me carefully. That wasn't your fault. Do you understand? It was simply an accident. That's all. Nothing more." She paused. "Okay, Sweetie?"

Jenny regarded her creator in silence for another moment, then responded with a tiny nod of acceptance. "Okay," she said.

When the last cable was unplugged and removed, Jenny hopped down off the examination table, turned and headed toward the stairs. Dr. Wakeman returned to the diagnostic-console with the data-cables, and returned them to their storage-drawer. She shut the drawer, and began gathering up the pages of the report and placing them into a folder, pausing occasionally to re-examine a small detail on a page now and then.

Suddenly, Jenny stopped in mid-stride just as she'd reached the foot of the stairs. She then turned and faced her creator.

"Mom?" she said.

"Yes, XJ-9?" Dr. Wakeman replied, looking up from the sheaves of paper in her hands.

Jenny walked over to her creator, and gathered her up in her arms, embracing her in a big warm, gentle hug. "I love you, Mom…!" She murmured, softly.

Dr. Wakeman placed her arms around her robotic daughter and tearfully returned the embrace. "I love you, too…Jenny…"

* * *

After Jenny's departure, Sheldon slowly walked back to his house, deep in thought, and now even more confused than ever. Only a few hours earlier, he thought he'd had Jenny completely figured out once and for all. Now, however, the picture was no longer quite so clear…

For so long, he'd wanted so badly to believe that Jenny was a real girl, that she had a heart somewhere that could somehow be reached. Then, in the throes of his heartbreak, he had come to believe that he'd been mistaken, that he was foolish and naïve in those beliefs. Now, in light of the evening's turn of events, he didn't know _what_ to think or believe anymore.

_Is__ Jenny a real girl beneath that steel skin after all?_ He wondered. _A real girl, with genuine feelings, just as I once believed about her? Or is she only a machine after all, and nothing more? _

_Is she even __capable__ of feelings?_ He wondered. _Feelings like remorse and regret? Like she seemed to show this evening? Sure, she __said__ she was sorry, but what does that really mean? Did the words come from somewhere deep inside her? From some unknowable place beyond human comprehension? Or is she just a machine following its programming?_

_So just what the heck __is__ Jenny, really? She's not a 'real' girl, of course, not a living, breathing, flesh-and-blood human girl, obviously, but…is she something else? Something…more…? Or something…less…?_

As Sheldon reached the front door, opened it and stepped inside, he realized that, in all likelihood, he would never know the answer to that question, nor could anyone ever truly know for sure. Nor was he all that interested in finding out anymore. Now…he simply…didn't care. Much to his surprise…he suddenly realized…that he just didn't care anymore.

Now that he had finally gotten the opportunity to speak his piece to Jenny, to express to her all his thoughts, his passions, his pent-up feelings and frustrations of the past two years…now that it was all over and done with, and had all gone out of him, he felt strangely empty inside; drained, exhausted; he felt _numb._

He did feel relieved, of course, as though an enormous, heavy burden had been removed from his shoulders. And yet…oddly enough, in itself, it wasn't as satisfying as he might have expected it to be. He no longer felt sad, or even angry. Nor did he feel happy, either. He simply felt…_nothing._ Nothing but vague, numb relief.

But…he would at least accept Jenny's apology. He could do that much, at least. He could even say that he "forgave" her, so far as that went. Because in "forgiving" her, at least he would know, in his own heart, that he didn't truly hate her, or hold any lingering ill will toward her, for what would be the sense in that? If he'd received an electric-shock while changing a light-bulb, for example, would he take it personally? Feel hatred for the light-socket and hold a personal grudge against it? Of course not; that would be foolish. After all, a light-socket was no more capable of distinguishing between right and wrong than Jenny was. Or fully grasping subtle abstract concepts such as kindness or cruelty. They were all the same to a light-socket, just as they were to Jenny…

And 'forgiveness,' he knew, was also part of the process of _letting go,_ which he'd begun the week before, when he'd taken down and destroyed the little "Jenny Shrine," with all its related memorabilia, and had deleted the design-files for all the gifts he'd planned to give to her. Once he'd done that, he knew even then that the die was cast, and there could be no going back. Ever.

And accepting—and even welcoming—Jenny's apology was a relief to him for another reason, too: He would no longer have to waste time and energy in avoiding and running away from her at school. Nor did he feel the desperate need to change schools to get away from her, either. At least…not right away. No, transferring to Poly Tech could wait—for the time being, at least; until the Fall of the following year, perhaps. He would still transfer to Poly Tech, of course, and then go on to Galt Tech or Roarke U. after that. He would still stick to his plan; that hadn't changed. And in the meantime, he would stay put at Tremorton High and finish out the school year, simply as a matter of convenience, if nothing else; to minimize any further disruption in his life. It was only for a couple of more months anyway; he could live with that. But either way, he was at last ready to let go of the past, and move on with his life, with no regrets and no backward glances.

Because he saw things differently now; he saw them more clearly. In light of all that he had thought about over the past two weeks, and all that he'd experienced during that day alone, he no longer held any illusions. Those were now gone. He now accepted that Jenny had no feelings for him, never would…and probably never even _could._ And so, he would never again make the mistake of inferring more from her simple apology, her hugs or even her kiss, than was intended; not even in the unlikely event that they really truly were sincere, and had come from some unknowable human-like emotion deep within her.

Even her quick kiss on the cheek meant nothing to him now. At one time, a kiss from Jenny would have meant the whole world to him, but not any longer. Now he knew better. He now knew that there was nothing behind the kiss; no real, genuine feelings or emotions. It was only a meaningless, superficial token, signifying nothing. Like her tears and her pleas for forgiveness, it was simply another example of her sophisticated programming at work; clever mimicry of human behavior, designed for effect, to elicit a specific emotional response from him, and nothing more. And, most likely, it would probably be forgotten about within a couple of days' time, too.

Similarly, her promise to "make it up" to him—_whatever_ that meant—and even her "apology" itself, shouldn't be taken too seriously, as they were merely words that had been programmed into her; words that would also probably be forgotten about within a couple of days' time. So he didn't really expect to see any change in her attitude or behavior toward him in the future. He didn't expect her to treat him any differently, or any better than she ever had in the past, despite her empty, synthetic promises to do so. He knew better than to expect that now. And it didn't matter, anyway. He no longer needed her…or even wanted her anymore.

In fact, in that sense, her "apology"—or his acceptance of it—didn't really matter, either. It changed nothing, in terms of how he now felt about her. His infatuation with her, his hopeless, one-sided, unrequited love for her, was still officially _over._ He was over _her._ As soul-wrenchingly difficult as the process had been, he had at last managed to come through it, had resolved it within his own mind…and he was _over_ her.

So it really didn't matter whether her apology was truly sincere, stemming from a genuinely human or human-like feeling of remorse, or whether she was merely a machine following its programming. Maybe she really _was_ genuinely 'sorry' in something resembling the human sense of the word. Maybe not. It didn't matter. It didn't matter, because he no longer cared. It didn't change how he felt inside.

Because _he_ had changed. Deep down inside, Sheldon knew that he'd changed. He wasn't quite sure what had done it. It wasn't only the incident at the secret agent compound. No, that was merely the last straw. This was something that had been coming for a long time now, he realized; building up inside him on a level he was not even consciously aware of, until now. Maybe it was the accumulation of several bad experiences with Jenny that had done it. Or maybe it was just the simple passage of time. After all, he was no longer the timid, immature, naïve fifteen-year-old freshman that he was when he'd first met Jenny. He was seventeen now. He'd be graduating in another year, and going to college soon after that. A person can change a lot in two years, and he certainly had, he knew_._

But whatever the cause, he knew that something had gone out of him that would never return, like a fire that had gone out and could never be re-kindled, leaving nothing behind but cold, dry ashes. Some indefinable _something_ that he had once felt for Jenny, so intensely, so passionately, was now gone for all time. He no longer loved her; he knew he didn't _hate_ her; he simply…didn't _care_ anymore. At one time he did. He really, truly _loved_ Jenny from the most sincere bottom of his heart, and would have willingly sacrificed his life for her, a thousand times over. But no more. He simply had nothing left to give; no love for her remained in his heart. Had she apologized a long time ago, for even some of the things she'd done, had she ever met him even half-way, he might feel differently now. But now…at this late date…her apology just didn't matter. It came much too late to make much of a difference anymore.

He knew he would never again have the same feelings for Jenny that he once had. He no longer believed in her, and he no longer trusted her. Whatever faith and trust he'd once had in her had been destroyed with the first blasts of her laser-cannons, and the "Jenny" that he thought he knew and loved was lost to him, forever. Her actions on that terrible day had killed all the love he had in his heart for her. A line had been crossed, and he could never go back to what had come before.

But…he was willing to go through the motions of being "friends" with her, at least—_whatever_ that meant. It was probably better for them to part and go their separate ways as friends than as enemies anyway, he thought. After all, the last thing he needed was a flying, superpowered robot for an enemy; especially after having experienced what she was capable of when angered…

And at this point anyway, he could be reasonably assured that she didn't hold any lingering hostility towards _him,_ and wasn't liable to do him any more bodily harm in the future. At least…he _hoped_ she wouldn't…

And yet…in the back of his mind…he knew he could never again be entirely sure…

So even though he would no longer have to actively avoid her, nor would he go out of his way to actively seek her company, either. If he happened to encounter her by chance, in the school hallways or at Mezmer's or anywhere else, and if she spoke to him first, he would respond in kind. He'd be polite to her, he'd be pleasant, he'd be civil…but no more than that. And other than the occasional chance encounter, he would try to have as little to do with her as possible.

And he would no longer be so ready and willing to do any favors for her, either, such as the little repair-jobs she'd sometimes asked for. No, the days of doing her _any_ favors of any kind were definitely over as well. If she ever asked him to do one, well…he would simply have to find some excuse to get out of it, that was all. A part of him was sorry to have to do that, but…it would _have _to be done. He could no longer allow himself to be used and taken for granted by her, and that meant having to say "No" to her, however painful that might be.

To the casual observer, he imagined that things might appear to be pretty much the same as always between them. But on a deeper and more personal level, he knew that this would not be the case. Things could _never_ be quite the same between them ever again. For he knew, deep down in his heart of hearts, that the friendship between them—if one ever really existed in the first place—was essentially _over_ now, for he knew that he'd never, ever be able to truly forgive Jenny for what she'd done, just as he knew that he'd never again be able to love her.

And so, he would never again make a fool of himself over her, chasing after her like a puppy dog as he once had, endlessly humiliating himself by pursuing what he now saw was a hopeless dream, an impossible fantasy that could never become reality. The dream was over, and he was awake now. No longer could he delude himself into believing that there could ever be anything more than a make-believe, pretend "friendship" between himself and the robot-girl, any more than he could go on believing that the robot-girl itself could ever be anything more than a pretend, artificial person. It was merely a machine following its programming, nothing more. A highly sophisticated, technically advanced machine, to be sure…but still only a machine, just the same—and a defective and dangerous one at that. And as such, Sheldon now knew that anything more than the most casual, superficial form of "friendship" between them was impossible. Such a thing could never be, and was hopeless and doomed from the start. He was a fool to expect—or even hope for—anything more than that. He saw that now, he'd accepted it as fact, and had, at long last, reconciled himself to it.

_After all,_ he thought with a resigned shrug, _How could a machine ever possibly love anyone?_

**END**

* * *

"_It is difficult for love to last long; therefore, he who loves passionately, is cured of love, in the end."_

—Ancient Chinese Proverb

"_If you were to insist I was a robot, you might not consider me capable of love in some mystic human sense, but you would not be able to distinguish my reactions from that which you would call love—so what difference would it make?"_

—Isaac Asimov

* * *

_Author's postscript: Well, there you have it, dear readers, my first work of fiction in over 15 years, as well as the longest, most complex, most challenging and most difficult piece that I've ever written, and my first-ever fanfiction of any kind. I hope you've enjoyed it, found it interesting, and—possibly—thought-provoking as well. As always, any final comments are welcome. _

_Originally, this story was intended to be my one &amp; only foray into MLAATR fanfic-writing, a 'one-off' that would end here (and even then, it originally began life as only a 5-6k-word short-story, not the 100k-word novel it eventually grew into!) But given the response and feedback it has generated here (and—believe me—__nobody__ is more surprised by that than I am!) I'm now thinking of following it up with more MLAATR fanfics in the future, picking up more or less where this one left off. _

_So if you have any additional thoughts or any questions as to where I may possibly go in future MLAATR fanfics (which—if I do write any—may be awhile yet—this one took a lot out of me, for some strange reason!) you may also feel free to PM me. _

_-Shvique_

_p.s. The Author makes a brief cameo-appearance as a minor character in this story. Have you figured out which chapter it is in which he makes his appearance?_


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